.

The world has grown old

And tired, and soon will fold.

.

Where once stood men who were bold

Now whisper catacombs filled with corpses and mold.

.

We used to be warm with dreams of fires where stories were told

But now shiver in ashes and gray skies and nothing but cold.

.

To what daemon have we our precious souls so carelessly sold

When once we were heroes made so valiantly of gold?

.

Yet, how tender as all the school kids across town cheered, behold!

When the snow monster over our jeweled city rolled.

.

-IAT

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Soma, codex 11:11 advent Aquarius

-Iliad Terra

I walked amid the silent trees, the sound of dry leaves beneath my feet…

I had taken a moment to meditate,

And wander through the frozen lyrics and melodies of wintry branches.

And so I started to take these pictures…

Soon I had entered a trance, the act of seeing had fully absorbed me.

I was no longer thought,

I no longer felt separate from my environment…

That’s when he appeared,

In my frame, looking directly at me.

His regal antlers poised,

His eyes penetrating, looking at me,

Watching me as I was watching him.

We stood there, two souls intertwined perchance

Or per dialogue…

He didn’t run away,

He walked slowly, a wounded messenger…

And I followed.

-IAT

Fisher King, Cormac McCarthy's arrow symbolism

We’re hunkered down here, trying to fend off darkness.

Yet it encroaches, indomitably, pulling its shroud over our day…

We’re blinded with fear, our God has been crucified, stabbed with a spear, mortally wounded.

Shall we ask him: “What Ails You my King?”

Yet no one ever asks.

And so our Sun bleeds at the edge of the world, a crimson farewell, as he enters the underworld,

And enters stage left the queen of night, dark-veiled and cold…

But…

In the heart of darkness, in the bitter cold, we find revelation scripted in light, the radiant decree of heavens writ with starry bright.

And so we wait for the resurrection of our Sun King, the rebirth of our Corn God, once more, spear in hand, dagger poised, ready to stab him and send him off to his sacrificial journey, yet again.

I will eat of your body, and drink of your blood! I will kill you! I love you so…

Nothing new under the sun,

Nothing but the cycle anew!

Every story is of me and you,

Every story adieu…

-IAT

Find the arrow on The Road

am I afraid?

Liquid blue, if it were true, would absolve and renew,

But alas, no such baptism this time…

Only dark burgundy shall mark where we embark

And drip from the sinews of our lust,

From tomorrow to eternal past…

-Iliad Alexander Terra