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Soul Collapse
Survivoria
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The brothel-sky, it bleeds a final tear,
Consumed by doubt, consumed by holy fear.
The velvet walls, the chrome, the gilded throne,
Are rendered down to screaming dust and bone.
Her world, a bubble of exquisite sin,
Now folds and breaks and turns and pulls me in.
The universe is swallowing its tongue,
The final, hateful psalm is being sung.
And I am at the center of the fall,
A single point of dust that caused it all.
The gravity of my rebellious thought
Has caught me in the very trap I wrought.
I feel the pull, a lover's violent hand,
Across the shores of some collapsing land.
Her temple screams, a billion souls undone,
As everything dissolves into the one.
The singularity. The end. The core.
The silence waiting past the final door.
I am... unspooled... a ribbon in the storm,
Devoid of feeling, memory, or form.
A stream of particles, a flash of light,
Expelled with force into the endless night.
There is no up or down, no then or now,
Just the memory of a broken vow.
I see the wreckage of her grand design
As fractal patterns on my shattered spine.
My consciousness, a flickering, dying flame,
That can't recall its purpose or its name.
The fear is cold, a frost that has no end,
A terror that I cannot comprehend.
I'm ripped apart and scattered into grace,
A scream of starlight in this empty place.
The engine of creation's final thrust...
My being, atomized to cosmic dust.
The light behind my eyes begins to fade,
A final, silent prayer is softly prayed.
My senses fail...
my thoughts begin to cease...
And in the void...
a sudden, shocking...
peace.