June 06, 2004tier [adeste fideles]More discoveries from long-lost disks....
[downtown]
O come all ye faithful
how long has it been?
how long as Graves been able to rest easy in the silence? sitting pretty behind his detective's badge, his detective's desk, confident that another round has gone by, another year has let his son lay in peace - that supposedly sweet, restful slumber of death (oh, but we know better), it has been another year in which Graves can hope his heart would mend, and his soul be forgiven.joyful and triumphant
how long did he think it would last?
O come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem
something drew him back, something brought the beast out of the darkness, right back into the streets of downtown, the predator has begun prowling amongst the sheep, waiting, watching, merely choosing the straying lamb to silence, this divine gift that has been lain out at the monster's feet
come and behold him, born the King of angels
but even angels fall, the Morning Star fell, the favorite of God... fell.
and so, unto his own, the chosen favorite of God has fallen again, or rather, he has been drug down kicking and screaming; there was sign of struggle in the gallery nave, there must have been some fight (some. brutal. assault.) that knocked over the gothic candle pillars which embraced the cathedral's altar, that left shreds of ceremonal fabric clinging to the edge of a pewO come, let us adore Him
adored, cherished, the focus of all fanatical attention - just like others had been the focus of His secrets, his attention, his cherished affections for the needy and downtrodden, those that had trusted, those that had cared, somehow in the whirling dervish of misguided charity the wrong hand had been clasped, and the wrong urchin taken in
the wrong man, on the wrong day, had been called My SonTrue God of true God, Light from Light Eternal,
Lo, He shuns not the Virgin’s womb;
Son of the Father, begotten, not created;and create he did (I will show you a Child's true love), the body drawn out into the cold and darkness, drug back behind the sacred building to find a fate at the judgement of one that never belonged within the cathedral in the first place, an affection in sadistic smile, a love (of what) that guided each stroke, each slice
sing, choirs of angels, sing in exultation
scream for me, Holy man, scream for me as your blood colors the snow, I want to hear the blessed chorus of your slowing heart
O sing, all ye citizens of heaven above!
scream for me, Holy man, with that dying breath, O how the children will cry when they find you come dawn
glory to God, all glory in the highest
a darkness shrouded the flying buttress,and the neon cross that had been strung and positioned high above the road, shadows consumed the glowing white light (he's been practicing) that shone upon a midnight dreary road, and a body was strung in parody crucifixion upon the lighted cross
See how the shepherds, summoned to His cradle,
Leaving their flocks, draw nigh to gaze;
We too will thither bend our joyful footsteps;how the people will stare before their Christmas Eve morning mass, how they will stand the gathered shepards on the street, the safety of their flocks left at home, venturing to this place of salvation only to find the most blessed damned upon the cradle of the cross
Lo! star led chieftains, Magi, Christ adoring,
Offer Him incense, gold, and myrrh;
We to the Christ Child bring our hearts’ oblations.oblations and muttered incantations, the soft sweet gasps that beg salvation, forgiveness, and above all, understanding
how could someone do this?Child, for us sinners poor and in the manger,
We would embrace Thee, with love and awe;
Who would not love Thee, loving us so dearly?the bishop's body was left, and the sun, hours later, rose, disintegrating the heavy shadows that embraced the still, chilling, freezing form... blood hung in crimson icicles, tattered skin splayed from the body in time-stopped tinsel, shreds of robe strung into the wind, organs had been removed to hang as ornaments from the outstretched (pleading) arms, wounds forced into flesh as something worse than the Stigmata itself
Yea, Lord, we greet Thee, born this happy morning;
Jesus, to Thee be glory given;
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing.in the Flesh
oh Graves... look at whom else has died for your sins....[tier, malkavian roleplay character - lost on an unlabeled 3.5" disk since .12.23.02. - part of a love after death vampire/wraith storyline]
Posted by Wolf at June 06, 2004 12:08 AM
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