Avalon

In my lucidity that has only emerged in this moment of afterglow…

I leave Britain once again beautifully haunted.

I am enraged.

The fury that bleeds from my piercing eyes in forward gaze.

The blood that surges with yearning through my veins.

I hate the stupor that plagues this Holy land with a zeal I’ve never known.

It lullabies men into a slumber of slow suicide through a subversion of the combatting, primordial spirit of perpetual struggle that shaped the brutal enchanted men of this isle.

The storms were and still are everlasting, but this stupor, this vile, insidious stupor has robbed the few and the many of the true combatant that threatens lives in a service to save them.

I once saw a grove of ecstasy in a vision, a dream in broad daylight, gifted in the space between shut and open eyes. Men and women circling a place where they grasped a soil’s shard of Eden and a sword would emerge in its center before any stone walls were placed to guard it.

Praying to our Holy God, we know the intentions for this place that only eyes cleansed with blood of Christ and see all we cannot touch.

But my eyes went black with a haze I could not reach out to strangle, and my Faith was ensnared in worldly shackles.

This Northern gate, this Northern grove, this Gothic city, these howling wastes calling out for a leap of Faith I never took.

To sprint,

To rise,

in the final hour to the South,

to drink from sacred spring of blood,

to feel rain upon my face,

while praying to the East

and gazing upon the gates of Heaven in the West.

Through a parting in a storm of old, Holy light cleansed my eyes from the muck of hell that poisons Albion.

From the sacred Tower of Avalon that longs to be an island in glistening sea once more.

Britain as God, Saint Joseph, and King Arthur intended.

And I hate more than I’ve ever hated, the affliction placed upon this place that has stolen my heart time and time again.

I hate the sin that struck this place.

I hate the heresy that hid it from history.

I hate because it is right to hate these things.

I hate because I love this Holy place.

I will hate until all is restored.

Righteous Fury demands it.