allahu.cipher

The eschaton was born from a microscopic hole
In the recoiling ground of paradise
Where the once-bitten apple struck it,
Black seed of destruction to come,
Pregnant mother of hope.
The children of men shrunk back
From this riot of the gods
They erected towers to plug the gap
And paved the latitudes and longitudes,
But the divisions only widened and spread
Raining down from jet-shaped slices
In the blue canopy above
Bubbling up through the cracks
In the viral concrete below
Lurking there in the darkness
Of oceans of morning coffee
It appears to the fallen eyes as death
Or a catastrophe even worse
But out of the expanding cleavage
Springs the uncanny, inevitable parade
Of a newborn world.