So I stand before you, Mother Corruptor,
I notice that I am not alone,
as you are surrounded by The Brethren
and we are all laughing.
Laughing as if drunk,
as we realize the power of our collective soul,
it is then that the reality of our predicament strike me hard,
we are in a circle of utter darkness,
surrounded by the purist of lights.
But this darkness, we have found ourselves is not The Pit,
not The Abyss that we have been told we were cast into,
but it is the shadow that our righteous enemies cast upon us,
the light has been tainted and overpowered
y the shadow of their hypocrisy and jealousy.
The light, I realize, emanates from our souls, our purity.
With a furious cry, Mother Corruptor,
I fly forward, clear of the shadow, for a brief time exalting in the light,
I realize their is a task at hand,
finally I return to the predetermined place to carry out my duties.
I find myself standing tall upon a mountain, overlooking the enemy;
like ants they are gathered below,
seething, writhing, boiling like a dark sea of bitter oil,
I sense not their self-righteousness, I only sense their fear.
With a cry, I throw my head back,
letting the dark stain on my soul flair into life,
cleansing in purity,
what I thought were the sins that they placed there,
were not sins at all, but strengths,
logic and justice
The light intensifies and streaks down the mountain like a wave,
scorching and tearing the earth;
I look across the writhing valley, Mother Corruptor,
I behold my brother.
Like me, he is cleansing the stain of false sin that lies upon his soul,
the light cascades forth from him,
releasing from the cage that they imposed,
the power against the hypocrisy they have labeled him with.
With the power of freedom,
a burst of righteous energy,
the light starts to spread and mingle with my own
and it is moving faster.
I look to the other end of the valley, Mother Corruptor,
I see the sisters;
they too have the light flowing forth from their souls,
the stain of the false sin of assumption and pre-judgment
driving forth like a heat seeking missile.
Eagerly it rushing towards its target,
the masses below have finally seen the light, Mother
now they stand as one,
silent in awe and in fear,
but it is not over.
Joy fills my soul, Mother,
as I see you arise like a furious wind above the mountains;
I cry aloud as I see the light burst from your soul,
the light flows from the stain of your falsely accused sin.
The sin of manipulation,
hatred, weakness and neglect that they have tainted you with
blazes like a million suns and mingles with the light of The Brethren,
rushes with new found vigor to its target.
The light strikes their bodies,
shears their skin, flesh and bones from their soul,
like wheat from the chaff;
it hangs in the air briefly,
a huge cloud of reeking dust,
then it is taken by the winds and is lost for ever,
leaving their souls exposed for all to see.
It is truly ugly.
Cancerous, twisted, putrid and empty,
revealing to us what we already knew Mother,
but for the first time
revealing themselves to each other.
They have little time to feel shock and revulsion
at themselves and their friends,
the light takes them, casts them into The Abyss
forever locking them with each other,
to play out a bitter play of fruitless backstabbing and whispered rumor,
and finally it over.
I say all this to you, Mother Corruptor,
I lay it all out before you,
although you already know and have already seen,
they will say this is a guarded threat, a stab at them from afar.
But Mother I say that it is not so,
you know the purity of our souls and I say unto them
this is not a fiction, this is not a threat,
this is not an attack, this is merely a prophecy,
for I have witnessed our Rapture and Revelation.
(revised prose version of original writing, 29/5/07)
Author notes
"Lies" - To comply with contest rules.
Contest: Points to be Added (enter enter enter enter) - Option 2
This is the third in the series of "Glasyalabolas" writings and was written roughly at the same time as "Prophecy" and "Mother Corruptor".
Once again, it deals with the same subject matter, people being judgmental, hypocritical and thinking, for whatever reason (and I can assure you, they had NO reason) that they are either better, superior or more intelligent than others. I am not being arrogant with this, honestly, but it became rather apparent, rather quickly that we were in actuality dealing with a plague of buffoons.
This piece is rather long and this is not the original version, as the original was written as a normal piece or writing, "stream of consciousness" style, if you will and was not in verse form at all. Upon reviewing it though, it became apparent to me that it was easy to convert to a more suitable style for posting here.
So....enjoy.
In a list
A contest entry
- give me your favourites (prewrites allowed). by aeolia.
500 points, ended July 29, 2007, 57 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - 50+ lines, prewrites welcomed by unraveled.
900 points, ended August 12, 2007, 33 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Points to be Added (enter enter enter enter) by lexie like woah.
1250 points, ended August 12, 2007, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Mythical creautres from tales of old, new, and lost. by HopeWithWings.
450 points, ended October 3, 2007, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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Enjoyable indeed, the reasoning behind this poem is execellent as well.
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Thank you very much. It is a bit of an old favourite this one, but I'm always concerned that it might be a bit too obscure for other readers.
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I love it, though it is rather long...
I say all this to you, Mother Corruptor
I lay it all out before you
Although you already know and have already seen
They will say this is a guarded threat, a stab at them from afar... thats my favorite part .. anyways thanks for entering and good luck
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Thank you. It was rather a long tale, surprisingly it flowed rather quickly when writing, didn't take long to get down at all, so it didn't feel so long when writing it.
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nice, and I like the extra information you gave on the poem/story thank you very much for a good read
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Thank you. You are very welcome. This is very much a favourite of mine, for various reasons, this piece, along with two others that were written at the same time, were the very first pieces of writing I had done in around ten years and it felt good to get back into it and it seemed that even though I hadn't written in so long, I had improved, at least a little.
It is also a favourite because, in several ways that were completely unexpected, it opened some other doorways in other areas of my life that I am only just noticing, accepting and moving forward with now.
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to me, this still seems more prose than poetry. i think it could be made into a really wonderful short story as well, if you edited it, added details and developed the characters, but i suppose it makes sense to have them vague as well. the long lines bug me a little bit.
i like the story you have told here and you have a lot of great lines, such as "seething, writhing, boiling like a dark sea of bitter oil" and the repetition of "Mother Corruptor". my favorite stanza is the one starting with "the sin of manipulation" because it is a climactic point in this epic piece. thanks for the entry, great job on this
cassidy -
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Thank you. It is definately prose, as opposed to poetry. Funny you should mention it as a story, it was written originally long-form, as a "stream of consciousness" style story and it was actually editted down to a prose form.
I wasn't sure if it would work as such, but was determined to do it just as much as an exercise to see if it could be done. That explains the long lines, try as I might, I couldn't seem to edit those down and get it to work the way it was, or the way I wanted it to.
Editting is my biggest weak point. I very, very rarely edit anything, not only because I feel I am not so good at it, but its a personal bug-bear, it's just something I feel with my own writing. When it's done and "out", that's it.
I think it's because I can't detach from anything I do, good or bad. Once it's done, to me, editting is like trying to change something on one of your children, not because there is any defect, but only because you don't like it. Like I said, just a personal thing when it comes to my writing. I tend to feel, once I start to edit, I start to over-think, I start to dislike what I've written and it starts to loose it's feel, it's basis or it's emotional impact. -
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haha i completely agree about the editing, i rarely edit unless it was bugging me too but the piece is good as it is, as well.
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To add on to Glasyalabolas' author notes, there is not a word written in arrogance. People were harshly condemning him, myself and a few others who were part of our brethren. Many poems resulted in our persecution and two magnificent short stories were created.
Son, I absolutely adore the Chronicles. I can see you and I sitting upon a mountain as you tell me this tale. It's an amazing work, maybe someday you'll write more to it.
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What really surprised me was how quickly it flew out (and how little it felt like I had to do with it). I think that was the first time that I really felt that it wasn't me writing some things. It was also probably the time I felt strongest that I had been "taken", once again, if that makes any kind of sense?
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