LAST MAN ALIVE CHAPTER 4

Hex Enduction Hour

A fierce and formless battle with the Spectacle.
Entrance burst wildly open
Virus fatigue within me—a part of me
It’s fighting my core, my creased fabric
My body weeps a thousand miseries,
Fighting the very flesh that was supposed to hold.

Ecstatic colours, florid images and violent patterns
All of it in dancing flames on the wall.
Lingering memories of labyrinthine manipulation—
Light crumbles, showing hints of revelation,
And the dead souls
No love lost.

Inch by inch 
Ideas that don’t belong—have never belonged 
Ideas of artificial worlds, streaming in tainted river
Mediocre demiurge, a hand gripping your throat.

An unfettered Spectacle 

Universe flattened
Become a mirror image,
Grand flurry of illuminated stars, shining in dull night,
Pinholes seeping sterile light.

Always someone on the other side.

I’ve become a receiver of signals
Transmitting the death signal—

Images explode—secondhand emotions
Expand to block view

I’ve lost to them.
My existence depleted of light—if there was a light
Imaginary operators built into words,
A ghastly weight, medallion of planetary constraint.

I see the runes rich in vanity, fading as clouds unfold
And I see the Spectacle for the first time,
A mangled face, shadowy jaws clenched
Riddled with dark rituals.

A dream cult, ageless and uncovered
Guardians of sleep.

The journey is over.
Transmission complete.
The signal has been received.
Time to step.
Over and
Out

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