The Heathens Prayed for Rain

OH HOLY FIRE, WROUGHT
AND MIGHTY : TAKE ALL
TO YOUR PLEASURE.

OH HOLY FIRE, ANOINT
THE LOWLY MOUNTAINS,
THE STILL EARTH,
HER TIRED TOMBS

BAPTIZE THE REALIZED
TAKE ALL TO YOUR PLEASURE

The rhythm road atop the pouring flame: rampant and in rampage--the chant carried through the entire jungle, the echoes giving rise to the birds above the gasping smoke. Such birds served as fleeting witness to the effigy.

The drummers built there procession, each emphatic strike causing a rise of starved flame--the chanters sang their prayer in ecstasy. Their purpose known and carried.

A wild flower, violet and golden turned to ash in but an instant, the rhythm turning its crumblings to veiled curtain of worlds to which even the birds could not decipher. A jaguar, in her desperate fleeting, ran at her fullest speed only for her, too, to be swallowed whole.

The Heathens Prayed for Rain.

FIRE, FIRE, OUR
WORLD ON FIRE

They chanted, the rhythm so ferocious, so damning, so alluring---- the jungle ignited, the crackle of snapped branch added but a whisper of dissonance to the rhythm, the tender rhythm, the monstrous rhythm beget of those who had the appearance of mere mortals yet were not consumed--their song exultant to massacre, their prayers merciless to all the fallen, all that was brought to kneel decrepit.

SWALLOW, SAVIOR,
SWALLOW--HAVE
YOUR FILL
NOW IS TREMOR.

And the rivers shriveled until its rapid flux was but a gasp of rising steam. And so the earth was a mirror to the night and void was lost between the falling trees which toppled and crushed the arid dry earth beginning its acrid birth into waste land.

And so poured the vexed rain of the swallowed ash, the flames having their fill.