The globulous form oozes
across cosmic storms
and nebula chasms.
It aches to find its place,
amongst the stars
and the planets.
It sees so much beauty,
and feels so lonely
in this infinite space.
"The old gods they called us", he laments,
"If only they could see the misery, inherent
in the long crawl across ages,
but they speak with fear engrained
in the way their words seep
through the grains of time"
Like ink across a black night of empty pages,
a splash of surprise on his gelatinous eyes.
He spies a planet, blue and green,
a place bountiful and free,
a place of so many colours and
he
wants to visit,
to consume.
For his hunger groans
like galactic thunder
across the vast aeons.
His rumbling hunger
rages on forever.
The mass slithers
through the stratosphere.
Bleakness in the atmosphere.
The brink of apocalypse,
the booming
of a total eclipse.
Faces look up in awe,
lips quiver in fear,
screaming as the tears
flood the seas,
and their sky
disappears
The mass expands,
opening glands.
It must be a mouth
some people shout,
whilst others are jelly on a plate,
sloppy and unsettled,
spoon-feeding
their fear to the air.
The maw opens
and the ink splits
the night.
A grand arching symphony.
It speaks, "don’t be scared,
I’m here to bring the light.
I may look scary,
but my form is not my heart,
and what I hold inside is pure,
love" and in a bite
he absorbs
the hate, leaving
only hope without fear.
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