Nathrangking

   Poem #15                                                      

                                                          Mason’s Art

Skies alight with silver beams that ignite the whole of the world form shields held in hands most immortal. Armies march upon soil stained gold by the rivers of gilt that the rage of vengeful warriors of plated heart. Drums create music that enfolds reality unyieldingly. Wave after wave of spears rain down among banners that fall only to be raised up by impassioned souls. Blades unsheathed wait to impose upon their hidden enemies nothing less than a fate formed in a place of endless nightmares. Mountains and valleys become places where never ending chaos becomes one with the very stone and grass. A din from below follows with murderous intent from the abyss. No living thing stands upright before an onslaught like this which can scarcely have been imagined by the finite minds of mortals. City walls catch fire as though to destroy themselves before true conflict can grab them and tear stone from mortar. Life fills everything with supernatural spirit at once both awesome and yet unable to stand as mediator of the carnage which is a storm. Above tireless weavers cast their handiwork into the world with reckless abandon. Their fabric is not bound by rules written by philosophers who struggle with that which refuses overtures of reason. Powers very real and lacking mercy clashes with untold souls. Forests and oceans watch and listen as witnesses of that which they will never speak. Beasts hide and wimper far from the feast for carrion and legends. When the tyrants who reached into the heavens to steal the stars met timeless beings who grabbed for worship unearned none know. Obscuring mists fill minds for moments before becoming a cloak most real. Sight is lost, but something new is found and granted as though by the command of a benevolent ruler. None dare smite the innocent. Thus, chains of peace encircle and stay those whose desires are driven by a curse of unnatural greed that consumes those who seek to shackle all of existence. A voice whispers as bolts carve these images as a monument for all time.