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Ellison Dec 2021
You are an ocean stretching as far and wide as the eye can see.
Each violent wave you extend is still brought back into the tides from which it came.
You are a calm, peaceful water.
Every ripple in your current will become still.
The battle beneath your surface is met with peace and patience.
You are an ocean stretching as far and wide as the eye can see.
You are a calm, peaceful water.

Let your currents be calm.
Let your storms be quelled.
Let your troubles dissolve in the brine.
Let yourself go to feel all the life around you.
You are an ocean, and a calm, peaceful water.
Ellison Nov 2021
Hurdling through dimension;
Nameless figures of information screaming
Through wormholes of thought.

Paralleled to evolution and form,
Extraterrestrial knowledge bundled
In a prismatic vessel making
Its voyage to Earth.

O, ancient starchild,
Gaze over our blue marble
From where you lay in cosmic utero.
Observe the apes silhouetted under the sun forging
Tools from spears, to bayonets, to missiles.

O, human soul,
Transport your essence from
Mind to mainframe;
We worship your digital, crimson gaze
Keeping protective watch
Over our inefficient, human bodies.

Behold:
Our lord beyond comprehensible matter,
Brought by beings broken and barren,
Standing with galactic authority
Within a primitive land.
We bestow upon you with our most
Esteemed welcome;
We embrace you,
The monolith.
Ellison Nov 2021
Two rows of a faceless infantry
fall into line;
I am their general
for this callous battle.

Overlords awaken;
their mirrored armies in meager shadow
to these giants that have played
the game of winning before.

The front rank advances slowly,
private by private; caressing the
battlefield as if never to return again.
The cavalry cry out into the night,
A horse’s metallic neigh that pierces through
to the other side’s defenses,
and the surrounding warriors join in for the hunt.

A piece for a piece;
The desperate deal is made
between the masters of their
horrified soldiers.
Do I dare repeat
such insidious acts within my fleet?

The crown shakes with fear,
for the opposing ranks are drawing near.
Towering higher than the castles upon the deck,
I make my way to the monarch in check;
Swords left littered across the field
as the fires of carnage have dwindled low,
but trampling through grief, groans, and woe,
The other side is forced to yield.
Ellison Nov 2021
The tree bears that fickle fruit;
slouched figures swaying in the midnight wind
like its leaves above the garden.

Ripe and sweet to the core;
never satisfied, and wanting more
as the sordid souls ignore
the elements beyond the door.

Hellfire ignites
and sandy scripture lies upon the bay,
like plastic bits of dogma
with infected red resin in its tray.
Rotting fingers of snakeskin
grasp at survival throughout the day.
Make the apple last
in cardboard crematories, they pray
the temptations of Eden away.
Ellison Nov 2021
Ingots of ivory lay piled
adjacent to marble plated pillars;
Swords championed by forgotten names
are dulled in desolate hallways on dark, decaying plaques.

Madness melts the walls to his vision;
baroque as an honor killing
and black as obsidian.
He lavishes and bathes in the thorns
and bones of dead roses.
Guilt floods the cellar
and warps the history of those who slept
in the iron-clad embrace of rusted chains.

His head is too heavy to carry
and breaks off onto the grass;
The last thing he sees as his eyes
glaze over like a beast before the knife
is his domain, decaying and dim;
Stairways heading nowhere that border
dining halls as incinerated as the meats
once served there.

He sees the moat dried
and the garrison speared on their own tools of justice
to be left rotting before an eternal Judge.
He turns away, however,
at the sight of the first Spring buds to erupt
from below the soil;
So horrified to know that his citadel
will be demolished to make way for the next monarch’s garden.
Ellison Nov 2020
Husk of will
And thought;
Shallow mannerisms
And speech.

Two-dimensional thoughts
In a flattened valley of perception,
And the winds blow in accordance
To the way the sky wants it.

My throat is made to open,
My mouth is gaping wide;
No say in keeping from
Stuffing myself full
Of someone else’s entrails,
Forced to devour the guts
And grime of a delectable host
That makes my opinion for me.

Shambling silently,
Breathing hollowly,
Barely blinking.

Circuits breaking,
Firmware failing,
Makeshift madness.

Eyes glazing;
Too tired to resist
The imposing parasite
That engulfs my brain
With mindless, empty spaces.
Ellison Nov 2020
{i. Synapses}

A moment’s unfathomable pause;
Drifting in polarized rows of orbit
As the planets vibrate autonomously.

Set courses of motion to fall;
Deities of amber marked with gradience
In columns separated by generations
Of the science of religion;
Unbound and with pure neutrality.

Neurons connected by stardust mildew
On the cosmic breeze of a comet;
Sailing by the passing galaxies
To the cerebrum of the universe’s
Central nervous system.

The bridge between logic and reason
Is built for the sparkling atoms of thought;
Purging doubt and mystery
From the corners of our minds,
And eliminating the inhibitor of
Satanic, and Godly free will.

{ii. Purpose}

March to the sunrise
With the rhythm of a supernova,
And rejoice in the lunar light
Away from the solar cataclysm.
Ritual of space;
Thermonuclear, beautiful grace
Of the genesis fusion of hydrogen
To ultimate iron.
Smothered in subatomic promises of creation,
The journey of light to shadow
Is split apart to reveal its voided entrails
Of fractured physics;
Never again to show remorse
For simply being the messenger
Of purpose.
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