These hallowed prayers,
Are unorthodox,
To say the least.
Whispered sermons,
To specific ideas.
Gods are such silly things,
Attached to beliefs of…
Omnipotence.
Falsehood on display.
Refuse to worship false idols.
Including your abrahamic god.
Or any one,
Of the hundreds that came before.
Only pray to certainties.
Soft pulls of entropy,
That calling of the void.
The surety of death itself;
Mortal as we are.
Humanism,
My final altar.
Upon which I place my everything.
To persist,
Or succumb to misanthropy,
One last time.
End the world,
Like I was supposed to.
My worship?
Black dirges,
Dark portents.
Witchcraft balled up in truest utility:
Wards,
Hexes,
Curses,
Glyphs,
Rituals,
Incantations.
All arranged in layers –
Steeped in sacrament.
Cryptids like myself,
Hold organized religions in contempt.
Farmed faith factories.
Hallowed be the truths,
Of existence.
Dancing of particles,
Upon solar winds.
Inevitability of black holes,
Their eventual demise.
Unto a universe,
Cold & lightless.
I’ve seen the end of time.
Know what’s coming,
In timescales requiring –
Heavier scientific notation.
Gravity.
Deserving of worship like,
Entropy.
Death.
Let us pray.
Amen.
Black Dirges, Dark Portents.
