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Thursday, 7 February 2013

Canto By James Horak

Canto I
What shall follow are non-chronological segments of a tale whose authenticity you will have the presumed audacity to pass upon. Take heed that you do so wisely, neither out of incredulity nor spite.
 Otherwise your lot may fall, as did mine, upon countless ages of unrequited good works still yet to satiate the pressing need to make amends to Gods your awareness still waits to apprehend...well.
Canto I
In the land of terraced stone pyramids pointing to an ever
blood thirsting sun...
I am Quetzechoatl.
He who rides upon the Plummed Serpent, thought to mark one
Ending its New Beginning.
But I am not.
These people call me that, that I would be but another part
of what they paint their dreams
The copper smell of endless steaming blood tracing down altar
blood grooves
to mix with oceans.
No, I have come to offer new metaphors for what they make of
the Meanings
that frame their Works.
And I will either set them free of this blood fever or.....
present them with new masters
that will.
It is only at such times and for such Purpose I come to Fallen host,
cast out island planet
where failed souls
suffer aimlessly
to try purpose
Copyright April 2001 James C. Horak

Additional Notes:
I intend this to be but one Canto of many. I may present some of the others here, but not all. Even though the "tale" is not complete without them.

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