copyright @DCS 2019
I am sitting on floating driftwood…at the edge of the universe, seeing how Babylon is falling in the reflection of the shining moon
And the floating driftwood is just the reflection seen by the angels in the iris of God.
And my hands are the leaves of Eve’s coat thrown away when she was cast out of heaven. And I wonder, is my ability to talk actually Judas’ silence?
But life is now just a dead man lying on the floor of the Kingdom
And at the same time, life is just a man standing on his trembling feet supported by a pole that touches the sun…and that man believes that this pole is just a light bulb; from Mefisto’s living room.
The man, just a humble plumber – a craftsman. Neither qualified to serve in
Hell, nor in Heaven. And after one thousand two hundred sixty days
God opens his eyes and dictates to me his will:
“I sit and I look all day at all my beloved humans…now dead,
and I keep them in a garden, surrounded by fences
and they want to leave , they want to leave so much… but I do not want to let them…I cannot let them.
Instead, I can only let them open the door when somebody new wants to come in.
And they all sit, above the Mount of Zion…together…
listening to the screams of the Lamb…day and night…he is crying… not because he cannot come inside, and stay with them;
not because he cannot cover the bleeding rivers… but, because…
Η νύμφη is coming.”
Note: Η νύμφη (in Greek) = the bride