By Alex Blum

Fires stains the soul, the demon-soaked world

Haunt rises from the bodies, amassed at the throne of God

He smiles, the lows of demonology alight in His mind

The guilty throne abides by power alone, no ethic to find

Fire and fury are the tools of the devil, pure annihilation is the way of God

The devil steals, God just destroys

The bellowing Demiurge rises through the heavens, grotesque form ascending

Cynical mask against white clouds.

Behold the Demiurge as He assumes His throne, built on the backs of the living

They support Him. They worship Him. He is their transcendence, He is their Lord

The false Lord, the great liar, hangs upon the cross

The Demiurge stares upon him and laughs

“Fool and coward,” he says, and all listen. “Those who rebel against the way of power will swiftly understand why they are alone. Those who seek the kingdom of Christ will find only the kingdom of bone. Those who oppose me oppose the atom itself, and have committed themselves to suicide. You, made of meat, seek to overcome death. You, surviving only due to power, seek to abandon power. You are contradiction incarnate. You are the anti-human, the anti-reason, the anti-life. What do you say to me, worthless demon?”

The Christ, God and all of humanity standing against him, body torn and broken, shattered will crucified against forsaken wood, was driven to laughter.

The Demiurge scowled, ramming the crown of thorns deeper into his flesh, drawing forth new blood.

But still he laughed, alone, defeated, a shattered soul symphony.

“The easy insanity, the hard insanity…does it make any difference?” asked the Christ. “We are both doomed. Power destroys all, and entropy will erode even the greatest of empires. I have chosen to die, but so will you – and when you die, your only legacy will be the ugliness of your own reign.”

The Demiurge won the argument there and then. He approached the cross and grabbed the head of the Christ, so painfully vulnerable. He crushed it in His hands, and He had won. The dead are most powerless of all, and they will never speak again.

The living continued their worship.

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