Erinyes' Vigil

An idol comes alive
idle in my clutch no longer
and bleeding like tears
her shivering fingers clenched
across bare knuckles read
"RAGE" and "FURY"
a death knell for devils
renewing the ancient pact with
Incantations
the lines of Judgment she intones,

"This is a prayer for the end of the world,
that hymn of condemnation sung on street-corners
and lifted to the fortune-birds!

I behold the true face of Oversoul, O king,
it is marvelous and has one-thousand eyes
surveying your wretched nation.

This is a funeral pyre for great Achilles,
the mythic wheels of mighty Juggernaut
on Cúchulainn's gigantic chariot set ablaze.

We are hated for our anger,
abhorrent from all angles, we are hate...

Train your body and sharpen your mind
stretch out tendrils of feeling, insight
accessing the world as its floodgates pour over
O adept, by Venus within never falter!"

Echoes behind my frozen form
a voice not male nor female
sends comforting chills supernatural
from the Sanctum Sanctorum in-between
where she resides, Metatron the Archangel
a messenger of two-faced conviction
Janus, the gatekeeper of Apocalypse
and now his Seventh Seal:

"I have been trapped here
for countless years," she says
an automatic voice knowing no context
skips the wild tone on chaotic scales,
"Why have you come to see her burial?"

Badb our fatal mother, Raven-in-Battle
who lit aflame the chariot's grave
claws one shore and perches the other
feathery shades in gloom
yet the river alone holds significance
that holy space between
(This temple is alive.)

"She sleeps now on the riverbed
and died before my eyes
Nemesis smolders in the ash
that spirit whom you say is Justice."