CHIMRADEVA

The 5 Geometries of the Tower of Xaljjera
Witnessed by the Eyes Which Burned

GEOMETRY 1: IMPERMANENCE
e/nai e/demurg

A place as dark as things forgotten
Cries out the girl and clutches closer
The doll of battered rags and sinew.
“Grandpa,” to silenter dimensions.

Beneath it, she casts no frightened, meager shadow,
A gate eternal as the utter fears of man.
Unlike soft and ebbing stone it stands forever
And beckons, like the ancient clutch of dreamingtide.

Behind her drags the ever-wailing,
Mauled-off skins of men in terror drawn.
A quilt of once-dragons, tyrant flesh
In which she swaddled not long ago

Siaion, her forgotten manger.
She whines “grandpa” out again, but none
Calls back from jolly white lips once pressed
By little, black and blood-stained fingers.

A distant ray, a dripping benediction shines.
An arc of potent argentine, which solemn drips
A meridian thread, a uranium tear,
To guide down the everpath to silver waters.

GEOMETRY 2: SELF-EATING CHIMERA
e/nai e/demurg

In sleep-dark fringes of her anxious knowing,
In primal fears like of the bear and jackal,
Ideas that wore the skins of hunching women
Stalked the wastelands at ideography’s edge.
Chimera means “savage.”
From out the primordial haze they slither,
Wearing dream-folks faces, stretching and tortured.
Each with one hand points up to the distant glint,
And with the other pulps their unworthy eyes.
Chimera means “temple.”
Their envies grow wings, their fear a jagged maw–
The dragon weeps for the light had left its eyes
And she begs it, chimera, to wake again
And forgive her for sleeping in its sewn flesh.
Chimera means “one who beholds.”
From above, the dawn gazes down,
And saw the sins which lay below.
The dawn saw them eat their own kind
Again and again, for ages.
Chimera means “fuel.”

GEOMETRY 3: THE IDEOCRIME
e/nai e/demurg

Above, a solemn council stands,
Weeping tears of shimmering chrome,
In mourning of their silver sun,
A gentler age-god-kingdom lost.

A tower crumbled, once to reach high
And know the visage of supergod.
Her soft hands a visceral hammer,
Maiming what god loved instead of her.

“I didn’t do it, grandpa,” she pleads
In prostrate. But it is what she is,
The nodes of her wretched, infant soul
That when sidelong seen, reveals the knife.

Unwashed of a taint too great for just her hands,
She clutches the gold tatters of the kingdom.
“I didn’t do it,” but the dawn knew better.
It was scrawled in her species soul. Chimera.

In glittering threads, the arc weeps
And all the sunshine weeps with it.
To do is ever meaningless;
To be is the ultimate sin.

GEOMETRY 4: PARAPETS
e/nai e/demurg

Out to grandpa she whimpers,
Clutching close the fraying doll.
“Why do they say I did it?"
To a hunched and spindly heap.
⌒
Uranium streams to sheet his wispy head
From the arc above. A neutron haze its crown.
“It was us that was the crime. We deserved it.”
“Grandpa, should I run?” Her knees knock, eyes tremble.
⌒
A rumbling, like the time-tortured hinges
Of a gate to merciless paradise.
She burdens bad witness to its waking.
An eye. “There is no running, granddaughter.”
⌓

GEOMETRY 5: HEAVEN
ixmiqui
YOU HAVE NO WAY TO HEAVEN
Before it all meridians are slain,
Scorched away by the same hate which once weighed
All trillions of men to begging breaking.
Dragon ghosts dying, for hope of mercy.
THERE IS NO PIECE OF GOD IN YOU
Panicked, gasping. The ghosts inside her screech,
And claw for a hand too small to hold them.
Into a nameless vapor they become,
Yet cindering with uranium sludge.
DO NOT BLAME GOD FOR YOUR CREATION
“Grandpa should I run?” she clutches dear to her doll.
He stands, legs splintering; tears leak through his mad gaze.
Keening, he drives his fingers hard, and splits his face.
Gurgling, he bleeds neutrons in bloodlike cascades.
WE MADE YOU TO BE HATED
Numbers scream in agony from dying khi,
He cleaves his image in gory neutron twos.
She begs him, chimera, with dead, fading voice,
To quiet the merciless break of daylight.
AND WE MADE YOU PERFECT
His old countenance was naught but sunrise.
Through his voice screams a siaion,
And lays bare the unweeping eye,
Whose tearless gaze was genocide.