My Imaginarium

Sons of Man

Off to the right, I identify with an accented pulse. Increase momentum, I float with a thin, vacillating line. It is comprehendible. I absorb the chaos around my line but remain weaving between the holes I navigate. Like rotted stone. Green and dark purple dreamscapes, I walk among the megaliths- the chill of acid wind, and shadows of large creatures in the clouded sky. Primordial tablets lay broken on the highest mountain. A structure of sticks overlooks the red lake. We have been blinded to our origin. Time did not make us forget. I heard the first song conceived by the universe as the acid wind tore through those impossibly high features. Put the thought of remembering to death. The demand for an answer shall come to all. When my solitary journey is done I am pulled back, becoming our first song, crashing into the strange megaliths, placed there by the sons of man. Awake, and bathe in the knowledge which will leave you until your next journey. Ablutions then compliance.