Crucified against the sphere
From behind crystal windows,
beholding marred visages of the world,
hands full of fire, layering yesterdays with todays,
the Creator of the human microscope
analyzes souls,
crucified against the translucent blade
of worm-eaten live bodies...
I feel frozen at times,
and by the fire of my hands,
I crave to suffocate the parasite heart.
What a night!
From behind crystal windows,
it rains feathers from the Light
of the Angel
crucified against the sphere.