General Marrow, Lord of Bones

Within the dream of the abattoir,
beneath hair and toenail and skin,
he digs beneath our fat and past the organs.
His business is with the bone core.

He is the lightning knight of epiphany,
the unyielding harbinger of revelation,
the barrier breaker of the adamant secret,
and the herald of truth too long denied.

He seeks within the within
beneath the layers of lies,
the self deceptions and petty farces.
He digs to show us the selves we have forgotten, hidden.
He seeks the bone blood at the heart of all things.
When his fingers are red with the truth of us,
he replaces our bits,
zips us up like bags,
and returns us to our beds.

In the postmortem light of dawn,
we will not forget the stains on his apron
or the insistence of his butcher's touch,
but can we find the resolve
to shed our specious egos
and emerge as our true selves
before his grim necessity
seeks us out once again
Or do we move like sheep each night
lying ignorant in our cage framed beds
waiting for the red handed man
to mount us on his chopping block.

Recommended Listening:
Apoptose
Sturmnacht
from Nordland

{Digital images manipulated in Photoshop}