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