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The Pillars of Creation

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  • divot
    replied
    Staring into history , that distant light. For what will be has been, from a that distant galaxy within. Interesting though a bit consuming.

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  • Brett Puddy
    started a topic The Pillars of Creation

    The Pillars of Creation

    I have searched beyond the starry bounds of time
    Where vacant planets move in grand procession
    And seen those glinting pillars through the banded heavens climb
    As I followed the maddening call of this fanatical obsession,
    For past the icy rim of Kuiper’s cluttered belt
    There lurks a strange attractor
    Whose gnawing presence I once felt
    When I sought the hidden factor
    That pulls these glacial spheres
    And the elliptical trajectory of veering comets steers
    Towards the swelling mass of plundered Gaia
    Whose nocturnal mystery is thinly masked by an ancient veil of Maya,
    And though I push my desperate mind to reach
    The sparkling wonder of that astronomic distance
    I cannot help but gladly preach
    About the staggering futility of our casual resistance
    To the visionary pith of that polemical conclusion
    Whose censored thesis may unfairly rend
    The crumbling façade of egotistical illusion
    Which those haughty scientists languidly defend.

    And if through golden telescopes you saw
    The beating heart of all creation
    Would you look for every creeping flaw
    Within that elegant formation?

    For I have sat alone and pondered
    If silver rings surround the gaseous ambit of unseen Tyche
    For long has that noble giant wandered
    Within the puzzled orbit of my discontented psyche,
    And as we spiral through this freezing cosmic sea
    I am witness to the passing of a thousand ages
    And am sadly left to wonder what will be
    When this universe descends into its final stages,
    For deep within this tangled nursery of stars
    There is a brutal magnificence which mars
    The delicate precision of this spectacular array
    Whose elusive beauty I cannot with any artistry convey,
    And while I scan that monumental spire
    Which pulses with a grim, foreboding light
    I feel the eyes of beings dire
    Watching me with growing spite.

    And what if while I vainly peered
    Through the glowing nets of distant space
    I saw everything mankind has always feared
    Slowly disappear without a trace?

    And the dusty remnants of that godlike column
    Which the heaving force of supernovas razed
    Contains within its lustrous essence something oddly solemn
    For I have watched its crawling death and been amazed
    At how all that lives is justly doomed
    To end its fleeting life amidst a symphony of vibrant flame
    And in its sudden end is instantly consumed
    By a fearful entity without an interstellar name,
    Who amidst a fawning choir of sycophantic minions
    Gave no thought to differing opinions
    For this exquisite temple which those weeping angels laud
    Is at its violent heart immensely flawed,
    For what is fashioned in its surging forges
    Will be devoured by those searing rays
    Just as God upon destruction gorges
    Whenever he a teeming galaxy betrays.

    But could I mold reality with my own hands
    Would they be stained with guiltless clay,
    Or would I submit to those irresistible demands
    Which claim that I upon the weak must prey?

    For all that is and would yet be
    Remains forever trapped within this whirling sector
    And from its insidious creator tries to sadly flee
    As if he were a gnarled and howling specter,
    Who having long surpassed his inborn need
    To erase the sable board on which he madly draws
    Now redefines his dated creed
    And with a childish freedom breaks its hallowed laws
    Which govern this opulent dimension
    Where lesser worlds begin their bold ascension
    Towards the blissful clusters of that ophidian constellation
    Which seems to slither with a primitive undulation
    That to my fainting heart portends
    The coming of a catastrophic bane
    As light itself to unknown forces bends
    And the tenuous dominion of archaic gods begins to wane.

    And if I were the mournful draftsman
    Who with his arcing compass drew those endless lines
    Would I seek counsel from other master craftsmen
    Or be content to search for different signs
    That I beyond my awesome limits stretched
    When this wobbling structure was incorrectly framed
    For I failed to follow what was sketched
    And to this dreary end have shamed,
    Those who pray for naught but solace
    As they bend a bloodied knee
    Thinking that my gaudy work is flawless
    And that one day I will set them free.
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