Dreams of a Fallen Earth
Jerome

         I awoke to a nightmare – I saw my world tearing itself limb from
limb and devouring its own flesh with the bloody jaws of immorality – a
beast like a dragon with the face of a lion ripping and shredding the skin
of truth and humanity with awful talons and razor claws,
         There was Greed, a disgustingly fat and debonair fellow with a
shallowly jolly smile and teeth like steak knives, and all the world fell
on their faces at his feet and he showered them with empty promises of
wealth and happiness and love, and all the time his grin grew wider and
joviality was replaced by horror in his compleion,
         Vanity was there, her nose in the air – she took not even a glance
at the masses who worshiped at her feet (she felt it appropriate) but only
continuously primped and groomed herself – combing her golden hair, patting
rouge on her honey cheeks, and brushing mascara along her dark eyelashes
that shadow her empty and thoughtless jet-black eyes,
         Death made an appearance, looking quite well considering his
current occupation – with charming smile and rolling laugh and an
attractive and friendly face he sat and grinned and laughed along and
gently collected the lot of men he was allowed and cast them with fiery
passion and sociopathic pleasure into the pit of fire and darkness and
eternal torture,
         The life of the party – the brothers Anger and Hate - were
slamming it up in Death's infernal mosh pit – their faces were scarred,
deformed, pockmarked, and scabbed and with utmost joy they destroyed
mankind – setting brother against brother and mother against daughter and
with the help of their sister Prejudice they held the whole world in their
iron claws –
         Their mother was War, their father Power, both similarly wretched
and malformed creatures – with wise, malicious manipulation the twisted the
desires and wills of the world for their own entertainment – they play a
never-ending game of chess, where all men are pawns and they are kings and
no conclusion will ever be reached until all pawns are gone and they
declare it a stalemate –
         Lust was shaking it up on the dance floor with Rape and in both
their eyes shone an unmasked desire for all the secret, dark acts of
pleasure and their hands were armed with razor nails to rip and tear and
scar their victims and their loyal subjects danced all around them – naked
and grasping at the blouse of Lust and the coattail of Rape –
         There was Religion, looking solemnly haughty, with his face and
hands raised toward Heaven and his booming voice shouting praises of his
own faithfulness – with meaningless rituals he sanctified himself and
snubbed his nose at the unreligioned for their rejection of his sacred
hypocrisy –
         Poverty and Famine stood in the corner, lanky and ghostly and
frail, stalking their prey with their jagged and rotted teeth – they were
dressed in beggars rages – beneath which hunger-swelled stomachs poked –
dirty burlap cloth and covered with soot and openly bleeding puss-filled
sores and attracted flies which fed on their agony – Poverty and Famine
didn't seem to mind –
         Mysticism hid opposite Famine, conjuring and chanting secretive
words, casting curses upon the earth, with amulets and trinkets and potions
and candles all about her – calling on the victims of Death to lend her
their powers so she might find some peace of mind –
         Addiction was reeling and leaning against the wall with a
half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand and tossing pills to his groveling
followers as they crawl around in the urine and vomit that flows like a
river beneath their feet, not caring about anything but their next fix –
         Apathy was lounging in another corner – he had hordes of devoted
followers (perhaps the most of any) but he didn't seem to care in the least
– he did nothing in particular, simply sat and observed with no attempt to
veil his obvious lack of interest – he was in some ways the most upsetting
of them all – his disciples neither bowed at his feet nor sang his praises
but rather sat complacently with blank expressions on their faces –
         These are the demons of the earth, the wretches of a fallen world
– those who bring pain and thrive on faithlessness and feed on grief and
sorrow – these are the faces of my nightmare, the nightmare I'm living
every day – how I loathe these demon fiends, how I dread their touch, their
breath –
         Now slowly a haze rolls back from my eyes and I begin to see more
clearly – I see in them the faces of our leaders and lovers, fathers and
mothers, sisters and brothers, and everyone I've ever known – but in the
face of the dragon, the most accursed of beasts, I see another face –
where I thought I saw a lion – I now see only me.