Arisen

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 24, 2018

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Submitted: May 24, 2018

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Arisen

Sun and moon in sky adorned forlorn by Holy King now hung

 who at Earth’s birth first spoke life in they whose glory For He they once sung

a song now turned celestial lament as they witness Maker’s fate done

From hands filthy made guilt free from foul sin’s son of hate wicked who won

but brief the murder of Son whom Father Most High loved but abandoned

when Son had sin become

 

There He lay, daughter earth so dismayed her bosom she rattled

Shaking to and fro like pebbles, were they—killers of God now shook than bedazzled

Her chest quaked, her breast split—in its wake—apart as brother sky went dark

Switching former day to sun rays black so arrayed in sorrow

birthed by clouds to shroud the Son from Sun who cried, “He’d never see tomorrow”

 

Booming shouts did thunders thundered to comfort fiery friend

who witnessed the end of the Lord who prayed

that His creation most prized would follow His Way

Up, up into the paths which lingered into the way

Straight, straight through the roads that led towards Yahweh

Away from the doorsteps of death who befriended those that sinned

 

But crooked paths they took, and nabbed the King on hooks

Brought Him to death’s valley where like demons they rallied

“Hang’m with pegs, get Him shook like those crooks,

Then ballet cast his threads so we can go back and cook.”

 

As vultures dance and eat on corpses in scorching sun

So did witnesses prance towards town to feast

after corpses were released and done

 

“How horrible…”bellowed horses carried away by their master armed forces

“How could they?”, screamed clouds as they shielded Sun from the crowds

And blocked sun’s sight from men and women deemed unworthy of his light

 

“That is that. Dead is he. Great rally is no more.

“What a drag. Break His legs from knees. Make this finale less a bore.”

Said centurion to companion who looked—then gazed away

in panic, so frantic like gazelles manic from storms fierce, he began to say

“Oh Yurian! This champion we took—look how mother earth cries, grinds, and sway

She weeps and weeps still. And the thunders demands souls of this crime without delay.”

 

“Idiot are you not? Testimonies false, repercussions demands

He’d yet to prove He was God—so we blessed this phony nailed-cross as reprimand.

The doomed are doomed. Lords will be lords, and thieves—thieves

So please quit pleas dire not, pick up your sword, gather cords, place them in tombs.

Hephaestus, I’m tired, bored, and hungry.”

 

Like slave driven to duties he tends with heart broken from task

So Hephaestus placed the dead onto their carriage meant for place of peace

As jade hidden shines from booty which pirate with smile grabs to be betoken of future stash

So Yurian nodded his head for his marriage with relief to leave place in one peace

Of heat sweltering, a noon dark, sky broody, and air pestilent

 

Gathering their selves, some time spent, off they went

But Hephaestus felt atmosphere skin melting, an awe stark, his soul moody, aura benevolent

He sensing presence profound from the body mounds, holy, intense—primordial

“Who? What is this I feel?”

 

His eyes widened and said, “Stop the carriage Yurian.”

 

The carriage halted.

 

Walked towards the corpse of the King dead did Hephaestus,

Staring at the body, a sensation invisible but unbearably palpable hit him – hard.

He trembled.

 

Incredibly so it was to him real, his head reeling

The vertigo sucking life from him like eels, his mind almost splitting

But emerge from thoughts he had as though in waters he fell

Asphyxiated in darkest depths deranged

Awoke from wonder’s spell

like captive to it fixated, found himself speaking an epitaph pleasant but strange

‘Say they, “Lays here he, King of the Jews

But in truth, rise will He, Lord of the Heavens and High Judge against fools.”

 

As one flinches, startled from sound sudden unpleasant, sharpens senses, then heed takes

So Yurian turned around, released his supposed composed visage betraying his confused state, and said,

“Hephaestus – what are you babbling?”

 

Coming to his senses, looking at his fellow soldier, he said, “Nothing.

But power extreme I have felt like being struck by Zeus’s rod.”

 

Gripping the horse reigns tighter, grinding his teeth, responded Yurian,

“Nonsense. Only falsities and delusions you experience. Nothing more.

Come. Let’s get going.”

 

Indeed what Hephaestus felt was false not but

Power unfathomable clothed in Eternity’s veil

Which Swam through air with strides mightier

Than Leviathan thrashing in oceans deep

To make enemies weep like scared sheep for encroaching upon watery keep.

 

For the force-power, which could make even sun’s fires ebb and flow

As snakes writhe to and fro from death’s throe

Then freeze Into crystal sarcophagi which encases flames dead into infernos cold

Becoming fire-snow in glass coffins containing their glow;

Or can shape like clay moon’s rock into fire rays whose luster

Would make stars lust for her—yes

From Holy King’s body broken still like lilies most beautiful trampled on

Did this force-power emanate

 

From eyes of his, Hephaestus wiped tears, then uttered like child

Who high in air his hands uplifted, thoughts drifted into abyss so cryptic

Filled with corpse-clouds and flying phantom shrouds of loved ones lost,

A Song to draw tears from even Mar’s image—man-made, war venerated;

Or draw fears into Baal’s visage to with-stay his hand death motivated

pushing away servant-worshippers devoted to placing their daughters on altars

Of his refusing hearts of kin slain for glories grotesque gained; 

Yes—this song highly capable to even force Hades himself

To arise from throne seat, retreat into his abode, and scold

like a bitter hound, his crown serving as testament to wealth be told

of souls doomed for his kingdom’s health—behold--

Lord of Underworld hearing a song, putting his conscience strong in guilt’s swirl

 

This same song sang by heaven and earth now sung by Hephaestus

Who understood the death of God the Son.

 

This same song influenced by the power—that force mighty flowing

From The Lord’s corpse—the true source.

 

As a prophet wide eyes his visions

Normally most trusted without suspicions,

Thrusts about his hands like daggers against premonitions

Unknown that struck into him confusion’s lies which taints his mind known

Like friend of a friend poisoned through unfamiliarity’s touch

knowing friend once close becomes slave of Distance whose fond for the hilarity much

of seeing friends split apart,

So Yurain approached Hephaestus as if entirely another being he became

 

“The hell’s wrong with you? What are you singing?

What are you saying? What are—“ but before he could

Finish his question tirade, tears poured from eyes his own without warning

“What’s going on? Why am I mourning?” Yurain crocked, wiping his tears away

And Hephaestus, why pierce me so with such dreadful gaze?”

 

No response Hephaestus chose instead

So he watched intently gesturing as one towards the dead

to pick victims as reaper silent ignoring

Victims prose shaped by voices trembling, imploring

Like man old without cane seeks help with grim sings—their pain growing

Knowing that cries unheard through pitch weak

Hardens reapers heart absurd to hear questioning pleas

Subsumed in boldness meek

 

Moved farther, far real away—Hephaestus--from a heart of love

and advanced closer, closer still without dismay towards Yurian to strike

 him. Through will to kill was Hephaestus consumed

As spouse once loving no more confessed this to groom

After who enchanted by lust, excited to cheat a must

 went towards him with dagger.

 

“Hand away from the hilt!” shouted Yurian

Hephaestus came closer.

“That’s enough soldier!”

 

Suddenly, like a bull, the soldier charged and slammed into Yurian who roared

“Stop, let go of sword, what’s possessing you? A demon hoard?”

Wrestle, tussle, pull, punch, push on ground did they for what

Seemed an eternity brief until a thunderous voice exploded in Hephaestus’s mind saying,

“Enough! What sort of justice kindles one’s flame of hatred

 to act as executioner? The Way, this is not. Quench

your rage’s fires now. Let shame enter your soul and overwhelm you.

Though dead My Son is, On His Head the crown will be.”

 

From what seemed on high did Hephaestus hear a voice

And dropped his weapon with shame.

 

Two voices blared. Then footsteps proceeding gasps

The two soldiers stared, dusting off their armor, standing up.

 

“The body of the Master we need. Please, anything we’ll pay.

Despite rowdy discord between the two, care we don’t, just state payment

Your business or squabbles are for us men not to dabble in as we

Have battles to face our own through financing our Master’s grave.

Just give us His body, Then gone will Nicodemus and I be.”

 

“What manner rough of business you impose to ourselves imperial

Without discretion common to us common people? I should have

You arrested.” Threatened Yurian.

 

“I am Joseph of Arimathea” he challenged, tossing to their feet pounds of gold without protest.

Yurian, with quick hands, adorned gold snatched to his chest.

 

“The pay we accept. Hephaestus and I will be on our way.”

 

They left with Joseph and Nicodemus taking the body of the Lord.

 

Then after time passed 

Placed in tomb was He until the hour came that His glory

Had come after burial.

 

Then came his rise that Mother Nature nor her children could

Withstand as they witness his power when He took His stand.

 

As a lion slumbering arises with power raw from sleep

Then out comes from kingly keep to look upon his pride as shepherd would his sheep

Or Alexander the Great unlike man common enslaved to Average’s whims

to the realm of power he ascended

Then at his legions and all that he conquered he surveyed as one transcended

Like a man reborn when heart, soul, and mind transformed, observing self-resplendent

proud of what became he;

or as His past Omega Self who over earth’s water-sky  coalesced with Universe’s firmament hovered

gracefully more than clouds, stratosphere-roaming,

then apart divided the waters from Universe’s blood transparent with permanence

and sees that what made He was good as remnants of Galaxy’s tears starry

flow-shined onto His glory, 

So the Lord emerged from tomb whose walls shivered-awe of godly bloom

From eternal doom…

Into the fields, He stepped

The dandelions crumbling death’s confidence with voices raw towards sinning sheep

proclaiming “out comes King from danky tomb to look upon us, the created, His pride

As a shepherd loves his sheep.”

And salamanders bringing grapes to this Man uncommon who engraved

On death’s helmet of power, “Over you Death I ascended

Like a warrior who, over legions defeated and all he’s conquered, walks as one transcended

I—the one from death reborn, when heart, soul, and mind transformed, observing my aura resplendent”

Proud of what became His will;

His glory flowed-shined upon

By marry bright-tear remnants of sky’s Sun seeing this power He pervaded—seen

With smiling permanence by Earth this Grand Parent whose blood she

Drank gladly like rivers apart divided to nourish her heart

, his roving atmosphere of power did clouds adore. Exuding from His being

rays brighter than the sun. Moon covered her firm lament with brother Universe,

then Coalesced their song of the Lord’s worth with the flowers and trees who

also chanted across their lands among their wind dancing kin to speak of King’s awakening

 

Eyeing His creation

His creation now cried, praising His power over death

Witnessing His rise, His glory, His resurrection.


© Copyright 2018 Daniel Smith IV. All rights reserved.

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