Maria's Journal Entry #22
Volume 4
Nothing Like the Sun
In silence and solitude
we the superstitious
scorn a more civilized magic
we the weak-eyed
blind ourselves further to dark matters
we the ill-versed
adulterate that superior language, that more eloquent tongue
we the impoverished
rob ourselves, refusing this offered wealth
we the disinherited
divest ourselves of the unearthed birthright
we the starving
deny ourselves meat too rich for our mouths
we the lost
wander the surrounding wilderness
rather than move
through the dark woods
The moon looks on
as we
the reluctant
unaware of our ignorance
choose not to sit
at the foot of this shrouded king
and instead thumb
our noses at the master
the cloaked
regent sitting
under the vaults
in shadowed chambers
We believe he is
a servant of the light
when in truth
the light serves the true way
catering to the darkness
and the dark lord
is loath to be revealed
as blackest pearls
cannot be cast
before sunlit swine
The day of the Lord is darkness, and not light