Fade to black

So, its not truly the end yet. But there is a certain finality about things, like the world's been set in stone, pure, putrid, onerous order. And that is to be toppled. The coming month must be monitored, for both cracks and sealings, and of course damned math. But this chess board has to be arranged, now seems too late, perhaps after, when it can be nurse.

I deleted it all. Two years of a child's blubbering. As with all new births, here from a new muse perhaps, there is a direction. Now I need the tapestry.

From Raven to Constantine to Iscariot to Gene. This will be the last permutation, my Black Angel of Death. This lost one who wishes not to be found within the wilderness of chaos. And there, his tall fortress of obsidian and steel. Fear without loathing, respect without friendship, this perfect villain, the self, individual incarnate.

The model has been built, a son searching for his father, an Angel of Death seeking to live, an Angel bound, a God of gods born. Heaven is splintered, Hell deserted, its gates spilled open. The lot return, the fallen awake, the board has been set.

The board has been set. How life mirrors the tale.