He

In a forgotten cavern, deep beneath the surface, where nameless creatures scurry in the endless pitch black of undisturbed aeons, He sleeps. He sleeps in a sarcophagus fashioned by antediluvian creators, sealed by gods know who..yet He sleeps. He sleeps and waits. He waits for some careless labourer to crack the roof of that foul chamber and for the first invasive beam of light to violate the surface of his prison chamber, or some landslide or earthquake or some other acts of ‘god’ to do the very same.

For now he sleeps, he lays dreaming pensive waiting, planning dreaming endless dreams repeating them over and over in perpetuity. Scheming, waiting patiently yet strained for that perfect day. His face undisturbed smiling, grimacing maligned delight betrays his malice.

For now man is happy, the fields are green, the cities busy, the gears are greased. Day by day the age of man is maturing and culminating to new heights unimagined even by He. For now He sleeps.

Once he awakes, this will cease. . With a glimmer in his eye, and a mere wave of his hand, He will execute his long awaited plans

The fields will wither, the gears shall rust, the cities shall be SMASHED and man shall NOT be happy. When HE awakes He shall be happy. All milk will be soured, all air poisoned, choking clouds shall envelope those survivors of his first waking yawns.

All babies shall be still-born, all wine bitter, all meat spoiled, every worm fat, all bread fouled by mold.

Man shall starve immediately, every heart shall seize, every brain shall hemorrhage, and yet every spine crushed, every bone broken and every joint smashed.

And even then He is not finished; every ruined place man called home shall be cleansed by fire, clouds of smoke shall be the only feature to mark mans passing… and even then He is not finished, not until all things crawling, swimming and flying end…..all oceans shall boil, all caverns collapse, every river turned to mud.

Then when the last fowl has expired, the last fish dried, the last crawling thing dead and the son of man is ash, only then shall they come, gods knows who, they shall come and capture him and again He will be imprisoned within some strange device. No explanations given because none will expect them. Yes son of man He will come.

But for now He sleeps.

The Other

Across distant voids I have come,
to remove you from the stars.
To devour your world and with it you,
removal of all that is certain.

On your tiny little island,
You live undisturbed,
but soon this will change.

All of your plans, vacations, funerals,
time itself will end..for you.
No clocks, or concrete,
only endless miles of echoes will remain.

I ask you, who can stop me?
Only a theory, and only possibly.
Moving swiftly but seemingly slow,
I will be upon thee.

Even as I draw near,
your children will rush to greet me.

Scientist will guess and figure,
but only I hold the answer.
Worship me oh feeble beings,
For nothing is that is without me.

No weapon formed may even pale to suffice,
or come remotely close to my omnipotence.
Lost you are without me.

I am now the only certain thing,
you are not aware.
But even now I draw near.

Only a theory may give you hope,
and from its hand was I bourne.

Icy darkness has enshrined me,
hidden my moves from all that sight me.
Yet because of light you shall find me.

Beauty hides my evil product,
behind my tail, afore it once.
Nevertheless you shall loathe me.
Regardless though you shall find me.

In circles now they ramble on,
quoting math and symbols for.
But worrying on,
without a solution to smite me.