No Picture Of Silt

as you fade into the shards and
slowly perceive what it takes
to be the creature to
silt up your soul...
and you finally capture
the semisimilitude
slick and scented
with the hypocrisy
of your existence
rotten beyond recognition
these scriptures shall not teach
those can't even preach
thoughts erupting
like bubbles in the silt
screamed at the stars
and forever lost in the vast
emptiness - but
a sneer in the silken night
a rustle in the antimatter
a light plunging downwards
the host of the chosen
the host of the starspawn