You saw the Behemoth on the horizon as insignificant. Turning your back on the seemingly weak as though an unworthy adversary will be your doom!
I was in the room with siblings I never met though they knew me, I had a body but this body wasn’t mine. They spoke of the dead being here and brought them with the vibrational ringing of cups and low whistles of red flutes. I brought mine by resting my head on the corner of the wall and letting my soul stand as this body slouches, with shoulders slumped forward and my lower jaw slack. I was able to see all around through everything perpetually as if all buildings were destroyed, this town was a flat desolate layer for souls to aimlessly drift. I began saying sounds not words we know but sounds we know by feeling them. Sounds of pain and suffering, screams of terror, until I was surrounded. Innately they came forming a circle focusing their astral currents into me, receiving this sacrament of them invigorated my being.
I seen that ritual has become obscene, always asking for something, always needing more. All is here …let it be.
Categories: Angelo Vasquez