Monday, January 29, 2018


We were the seventh group.
Our goals were open and limitless,
Our bodies made of red clay,
red blood, blue lightning.
Our souls without tether.

We had prepared for the voyage
through strict discipline
as instructed.
We had taken the ritual baths
in the mountain temple
for 5 days in a row.
We had been covered in dust
and blankets
and beaten with leather.

Once rising, finally free of dust
and forgetfulness,
they told us we would climb
like a winged bird
towards the sky,
our minds would open
into endless unimaginable landscapes
without the shrouded mist
of our homeland,
without the desolate frozen lakes
of our dying land.

Our newly formed blood
would adapt to the synthetic nutrients,
to the dark brown soil
of the astral ship we were now forming.
For those left behind
we would become part of
the golden rays of sunlight,
a piece of the distant sky.

But certain elements
in the network engineering
began to change our nature.
My companions
hungered for old blood
and I felt waves of a hunger too
even if I couldn’t name it.
We found within ourselves
a desire far greater
than our preconceived nutritional needs.

Somewhere over the horizon
we became creatures of darkness
shadow killers of souls,
and we turned the ship around
and placed within it
the seed of a new message.

We would find a way
To merge
Our desire for flesh
And our wish for the stars.

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