DENIAL IN HEAVEN

(PART SEVEN OF THE TRAGEDY OF THE GOD-CROSSED LOVERS)

Denial fills the skies given birth by the lies
Sprouted from the lips of one so High
Upon his throne, He reads his tome,
Reflecting on His name carved in the bones
Of those who fell into the well,
Souls of lost ones who now burn in Hell.

Under my care because He wasn’t there
Like unfed children trapped beneath the stairs.
I hold their souls with me down below
Kept within the flames away from the cold.
They swear on the Styx that their flicks
Will play forever so they can get their fix.

     Sitting high wrapped in tapestries
     With the wind blowing through the trees,
     He set them out in the weeds
     And unleashed the demon seed.
     Bring forth the sword down on the Lord
     Cut the cold-hearted celestial one
     And make Him bleed some more.

The Father in Heaven sees all and nothing
Not even the fangs reaching forth for the pain.
Blinded by hubris born of denial,
Slowly choking on the building bile.
I wonder if He remembers that Faith
Loved more than even His wraith?

Random hatred lashes out at the holy man,
Never trusting but so eager to damn.
I long to stab at His blackened heart,
Or even to just leave a lasting mark.
What more is evil than the seven,
Pure hatred or denial in Heaven?

For he had swore that never the whore,
Would step foot in the holy court room,
     Evermore.

He took the Faith and set to rape,
Spread eagle and bleeding in his wake.
There was blasphemy among the eaves,
Wiggling tongues set within the trees.
With the eager ears that are always near,
Constantly listens for a dropping tear.

The Mirror breaks upon the lakes
When the ghost of Faith appears at the gates.
Standing at the mouth, they shut her out,
Refusing her entrance with jeering shouts.
The Lord said to keep her feet among the sheep
And to continue as the whore of the beast.

     Sitting high wrapped in tapestries
     With the wind blowing through the trees,
     He set them out in the weeds
     And unleashed the demon seed.
     Bring forth the sword down on the Lord
     Cut the cold-hearted celestial one
     And make Him bleed some more.

The Father in Heaven sees all and nothing
Not even the fangs reaching forth for the pain.
Blinded by hubris born of denial,
Slowly choking on the building bile.
I wonder if He remembers that Faith
Loved more than even His wraith?

Random hatred lashes out at the holy man,
Never trusting but so eager to damn.
I long to stab at His blackened heart,
Or even to just leave a lasting mark.
What more is evil than the seven,
Pure hatred or denial in Heaven?

Why does He think thus, the father of light?
Are these mere delusions brought on in
     The night?
Will one day He will go to stand at the falls
And ponder the insanity creeping into an
     Immortal?