THE COLD DARK COSMIC SEA

S1

And what shall we reply when

 it’s we of whom they inquire

– to what philosophy shall we appeal? 

For, in our day, when we sought such reply, 

was it not blood in place of words that came to we, 

not decay in place of life? 

The line of Truth, clear now to see:

as true Light fades from lips of men,

cold arms of death await, 

a final coming chill embrace. 

For, when we thought we sought the Truth, 

we determined only but to wear

 the cloak of comfort on our skin, 

resigned to throw daggers at the heart of Him. 

There now lies, where Truth we tossed aside, nothing but the silent black 

where music fades to grimace and to shame. 

Nothing is there now that waits where Truth we forsake.


So, do today still we remain

content with naught but an insignificant part to play? 

Is it all that we’re condemned 

to twirl, dance, and smile 

for faces wearing nothing but 

a single, solemn, cold, blank stare, 

seeing nothing more and only with 

their long-dead glassy eyes? 

Shall we find meaning in this charade, 

or do we laugh because it’s the dark which we know awaits? 

Who gave to us such a lie that it was we, we, who set the Sun to rise 

and the Moon to whisper gently in this night? 

And night it is where our ears no longer hear, our hands no longer feel. 

With the echoes now it must be clear, 

that, without God, there is much, much to fear.”

S2

Were it such that rationality 

were all that pulled us forward, 

where would be, then, the residence of our morality 

to lift all hearts and minds above and heavenward?

In the early hours, dusk fallen just before

the breaking of new rising dawn, 

are still we not so sure that 

morality may yet, this day, see us forward? 

It’ll be, when passed are these millennial seas, 

the sad eulogy of our humanity 

that at once we held both love and rationality; 

yet, finding little place for love, obliterated such a thing.

We ran through temples, dancing as we sang, rejoicing, 

no embarrassment, “God is dead!,” 

thinking all of us, ourselves, inerrant;

being as the man which Nietzsche had foretold, 

here we try to stand, seeking height above all progeny, 

but what, of our achievements, towering, 

long struggles, suffering, now show, we? 

Is it not the case for all to see, 

our journey silent, condemning any feat,

met, in the end, by none, 

anger, flesh, nor denunciating ancestry,

falling merely on the silent ears, 

the thoughtless mind, the blind eyes, of 

the cold dark cosmic sea? 

Is it not the case that we have died, 

leaving for our children, 

and their children’s children, 

the will but to mind – to power, 

foolishly confusing such for omnipotency?;

and, failing them: hopefully, the will to love, the will to morality

– to empathy and the Source of the omniassembly? 

What honor will there be

in facing fearful odds for the ashes of our fathers

in the stricken temples of their gods? 

What purpose will there be in struggling,

forsaking Light, against the rising darkness of the sea – 

not even gentle flickering, nor candle whispering, 

the pale illumination of high moon’s light, 

to guide our stumbling feet this night? 

When over which we walk, 

the husk of father’s God beneath,

wither shall we go henceforth? 

For will it not then ever be, that, 

our path be lost among the cosmic sea: eternity,

our banners failing simple sad remorse? 

S3

Take heart! 

The circumstance be dire, but the news be lighter!

What is dark, but a lacking of the light? 

What is death, but the absence of the life? 

Yet, we know that life be some event which must have a cause, 

as surely any man can see! 

Nothing comes from nothing, yet, here is something more than that: 

all that came to be!

So, must there, then, be a cause to all of this - this whole reality?

Was it not the case we once forsook 

the God that led our father’s feet?

Threw down His temples, trampling,

to find but dark recesses of lost minds, 

ourselves weeping bitterly – 

cast away from humanity, failing purpose of really any kind? 

It is, undeniably, good to hear and to see: 

God’s not dead, despite our spirits’ fracturing

– killing life itself, what would it mean 

for even Life itself to see such defeat? 

One may die, or take another’s fire, 

but what could take the Source of all that be

and cast it to the rocky shores of this pelagic sea? 

The paradigm of life’s Necessity - 

whose love we sought to obliterate, regretfully; 

at whose death we leapt rejoicefully - How shamefully!

Yet, if Necessity, indefeasible, then we see:

only dead willfully is He,

so blind eyes and groping hands

may tell, feel, and see to bring about belief: Risen is He!

In act of true divinity, Life lays down Himself and rises back to feet

– to no hand, ear, mind, or eye will Life be found unwitting, in defeat, 

failed, broken, without any living potency. 

For this reason, then, we must believe 

that to these temples whence angels hark, 

in these halls, where high praises of our fathers rang, 

that we shall sometime (yet to come) return. 

If we fall away, we fall into the coming dark,

and when we lose our way, in all consuming blight,

remember that the dark does not exist, 

but in the absence of the light. 

If only in the absence of the light, 

then only since that light exists, yet though 

light remains still distant in this ashen day.

If removed – you must replace! 

For, in the hour of our grief, 

grief that it was we, you see, 

who thought to blot the Sun,

who thought to seek the omniassembly, 

recall these words, this council - quick to learn and believe: 

know this, children of our children’s children, 

never kill this God did we

– blind fools and hopeless players, 

how ever could we

destroy the Source of all that ever be? - 

only did we pull away and hide ourselves

in the shadows of our caves, 

in the darkness of our broken days. 

The Light yet remains; don’t come our way! 

Turn back and abstain! So far as it has come to be,

speak, these fallen stones, crumbled towers of industry,

only to the failings of your fathers in their prideful humanity, 

the sadness of their ashes, 

and the frailty of their so-called gods.

See:

there be but one Source of actuality,

one Source of all morality, 

there be but One from which all came to be. 

And this is wisdom, Truth for thee:

In this One: love and rationality, 

power and morality, 

beauty, and the

omniassembly – 

unattainable to we, 

but touched and experienced yet He can be. 

S4

Council nevermore under

weeping flags of eulogy, 

nor beneath these weighted words 

pouring from this last wailing vigil lectern-seat. 

In these, partiality you will find, 

yes, partiality remains in part! 

Would it not be honor to your legacy, 

that facing fearful odds you may die, 

guarding ashes of the fathers, yours and ours, 

standing to defend the temple-yards

of the one and only God? 

So, cast back dark depravity. 

For where there’s solely rationality,

morality fails, obfuscates reality;

unknowing even Truth from not.

Yet, to this end still we raced, 

and in our haste, there is where we met our fate;

follow not the dusty trails of fathers’ urns, 

but remember now! What, once, we forgot, you must learn!

 When it comes that eclipse rules the day,

and shadow be the valley of your homes – 

remember, life was once laid aside

in order that Demise might be ruled alike.

In this one, Christ alone, life you will find. 

So hear, now clearly seeing:

How better can man see 

death without defeat,

than by facing fearful odds 

for the ashes of his fathers

and the temple of the one true God?