Ouroboros

 (  The Blackest,  of Wholes  )

  

 

horrific . . . and

standing there,  stark among The Galaxies,  as

each heaving breath He takes,  draws billions upon billions of Stars

into the swirling Chasm,  of Oblivion . . . His Form,  an immense Nebulae of

what might have been,  lit from within,  by the serpentine Fires of an unnamed Hell,

     emitting vile and virulent Clouds of unrelenting Rage upon The Silence of untold Æons . . .

a vast and terrible Beauty,  a Colossus,  made living by the sheer enormity of Evil,  and Its

dogs He has lain loose upon The Hearts of Men,  for Ever kept rabid,  and ravenous,  by the

merciless Hunger of an old,  deep and insatiable Darkness,  where Angels are doomed to

walk Eternity in the final Abyss of Fear,  and where The Echoes of Empires have gone to

die,  along with Their Suns,  along with Their Sorrows,  unsung,  and unforgiven,  and

unremembered . . . a ruined Aberration of God,  whose purpose is nothing less

than complete,  utter annihilation of The Very Light of All Creation, 

therefore,  alas,  and oh yes,  The Very Essence, 

      of All,  Things,  Dear . . .

 

 

 

(  Chaos,  waits  )

 

 

 

from Book I,  The Ring ( First Light ) The First DoveTale – The Rhythm of Life