Sleep Now, Leviathan

I saw the slumbering statuary of Leviathan
And he is such a pretty hellenistic,
marble boy,
a sculpture in the round
relaxed posture and anxious face,
eyes closed in the prey of nightmares

The sculptor's allegory is
etched all over his face
and in the lines of his veins
and curves of his bones
blood muscles nerves
freed from stone
There's a
demon in his chest
an angel in his lungs
this comet crater shaped
hole in his heart
and a constellation
of scars on his skin
he is infinite and heavenly but looks,
when trapped in the stone, shockingly  terrestrial
He is a mythological godlike grown up-he-child
prodigal and beautiful
he is strong and bowed
Tortured for so many eternities
fallen hero, broken god
son of Prometheus , who brings the flames and
the last of the bloodline of Atlas, who lifts the world
self tormented and morally correct
revolutionary knights who lost the wars

He is Leviathan of the sea but he
gaurds the gates of hell and stands strong as the sinners chant
his name to open up the gates and
echo Levi-a-than Levi-a-than, Levi-a-than
love me, love me. love me,
let me live let me live
and let me free
he stands so still as the anguished saints flee
from heaven to find solace in the warmth of the flames
He is no Saint Peter he does not call your name
or grant indulgences
he is no jury
he is no judge
only the protector or the captor,
depending on the angle
of which you view him
how lovely he looks,
trapped in that marble
caught forever in a moment of exhausted serenity
bless the chisel
and the quarry which birthed the stone
pray for the seventh prince of the dark who tries and cries into
the night to be noble
and string rosaries from the limp stone fingers
of his depiction
give him candles,
set them at his feet, but don’t light them,
for he is wary of the flame that his back is to, oh so long
and love him and care for him but
be wary of when reverence turns to worship
for over familiarity might fall into blasphemy