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-"Transcendence of Three Dimensions"-

Waking up is a silvery blur
Of things that are and things that were
Things that have not come to be
Have tripped onto the elevator to memory
Am I only halfway there?
How far 'til my reality tears?

The path on the ground has never been tread
The sky far above has a face on a head
The bloated maggots holding me to the ground
Look up and ask me of this new sound

Far towards the East on a hill stands a machine
Spitting tar down on the knots of green
Laughter splits the air and two birds mingle
My skin went fishing and brought back a tingle
Up from the sea bed came a litany of pain
I was held down where great men went insane
The walkin' dude held up a shaman's stick
On his seventh head fire surrounded each tick
Each tick of the clock as the millennium wore off
Bubbling underneath me was a nighttime cough
Old man God had been stashed away
Had been licked away like a candy cane
Flogged like a ghoul on a leash
Giving up his skin for the feast
Three dead kings flying in stealth
Had brought up twin towers of godless wealth
No more was there add and subtract
There was take from the weak and never give back
The fat of the Earth hung down in a roll
A mixer party down at the south pole
Between the sun, the moon, the stars, and the stones
It's said that everything resonates at a tone
Four angels sat at the four winds
Blew four trumpets and flapped four fins
Cacophony and cadence learned to unite
As hell on Earth readied itself for the killing bite
Time compressed, the machine whined
Until the key of it's voice turned birds into swine
Three times a sigh of relief
As all life was stolen by the little black thief...

Learn more about this author, Jack Merridew.
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