Tyrel Franson- Two Poems

The Upside-Down Kingdom

In this land,

Stars strech out with rays of darkness cold,
The void emits a shining heat,
Freezing water burns my flesh and bones,
And I am quenched with fire sweet.
Here still, my God is present.

In this land,
Forests bury branches in the ground,
With roots that reach toward the sun.
Lightning tickles pink the puffy clouds,
And thunder lulls with softest hum.
Here still, my God is present.

In this land,
The poles are strewn in stoney cays,
With madly rushing magma rivers,
And ships which sail on lava waves,
Point compass at the cold equator.
Here still, my God is present.

In this land,
Giant whales warble as they fly,
With flapping fins and feathered tails,
While through the ocean avians dive,
On wings of irridescent scale.
Here still my God is present.

This is the Upside-Down Kingdom,
Where the driest bones are wrapped in flesh
And empty eyes are given sight.
Where the rich are robed in ragged dress,
And starving souls are clothed in white.
They are in God's presence.

This is the Upside-Down Kingdom,
Where the greatest bow before the least,
And every master is a slave.
Soldiers boldly march on shoes of peace,
Not to kill, but to save.
We are in God's presence.

This is the Upside-Down Kingdom,
Where the purest one took all the stripes
That my own sin had earned for me
Here I must die to find true life
Because my mortal flesh is weak.
I am in God's presence.

All the universe is in his hands,
Let no man think to contradict,
God radiant glory fills the heavens,
He rules from first breath to last trumpet,
When we will all be standing in the presence of God.

Let all creation praise his greatness,
Which mortal minds can't comprehend,
His backward kingdom stretches boundless,
This empire of evil will come to an end,
And we,
The Bride of Christ,
Will dwell in his house,

For ever and ever, Amen.

The Volcano, the Devil, and the Dragon

We sneak up on him while he is asleep to observe him without being consumed by his voracious conflagration. Smoke wafts from his jagged spine, the collected smoke of every city he has ever burned. Each plume is the trophy banner of a defeated enemy strewn across his back. If we listen closely, we can hear a high pitched sound echoing with the escaping steam, screams of the souls he has already savoured. His mouth stretches in in a gusting yawn, and we are temporarily blinded by the blast of smoke that comes from it, blanketing us in grey ash. In this colourless landscape, the sun is lost, and becomes nothing but a memory. This foul substance can even enter the lungs, causing a slow, choking death. Once thay foul fog has cleared, we gaze down his gullet, into the fiery pit below. His gut bubbles with the red-hot promise of death. The stench of sulphur pours from his pores, a mere byproduct of the viscous, burning liquid in his belly. When we hear the rumbling of his stomach, we know that he is longing for the taste of more lives to feed his unending hunger. His scales have an outward sheen, the slippery residue of blood in which he has bathed. They are a dark void which devouers the light. This hardened covering serves as armour against all but the most powerful of piercings. His chest and underbelly are decorated with sparkling gemstones and precious metals, medals he has awarded himself for proving his mettle. He sees himself as brave for struggling in a losing battle against the strictures and structures set upon him. He is a stealthy beast, no one knows exactly when he will once more awaken to devour houses, cities, and even nations. Some say he was even responsible for sinking an entire island beneath the waves, relishing the inhabitants' cries for mercy like the sweetest symphony. He stirs his massive bulk, and with an earth-shaking roar he announces his coming. Those bated fires which once resided inside of him pour from his mouth to bring death upon all that is good. Those sharp claws that were sheathed stretch across the land to slash at anyone foolish enough to stay within his reach. But even when he has annihilated everything in sight, there is hope. For in the wake of his wrath, life springs anew. That bright vigour which had been covered by apathy reawakens in the light of destruction. And, one day, he shall be bound, so that he may never revel in havock again. That mountain of destruction wil be chained by civilization, that beast of flame will be silenced by a holy sword, and the one that was known as Lucifer will be bound and cast into the fiery pit forever. The Volcano, the Devil, and the Dragon will trouble us no more.