We plunge into the Dream Vortex
Swept along by impetuous currents
Of fantasy, lust and deadly despair.
No! Night embraces us with her dusky
Wings of oblivion…
As now, we fall into a vast pit:
Anguish.
Nostalgia.
Visions by artists from all ages.
Terrible beauty, terrible, invisible transformations.
Out of the daylight, away from the sun:
No stars, no constraints,
Just livid colours, and
Purple flames enveloping
My hieroglyphic flesh
In this astral inferno
So far from home.
Massive structures tower over the waves,
Pulses of energy, bolts of green light and
Sheets of water cascade upwards
While
All forms of organic life
Mutate into crystal.
It is the
Instant of illumination:
The cosmos implodes.
The Dream Vortex melts and twists
In extended spasms of quasi-ecstasy,
Heaving basalt cliffs flood
Across empty plains,
Moons expire in clouds of debris,
As the Pit contracts to a point of dust.
Petals, clouds, births and rebirths
Mutate as bodies turn to stone.
Molten magma freezes in time.
Time decays in this night
Of ten thousand eyes.
Cyclopean walls
From ancient times
Enclose the obscene screams
Of prisoners
Walking a treadmill of dreams
…for ever.
A C Evans