Devotion, Sublimated

I am a being of magnitude, the Sun,
Epicenter of your world's
entire fucking universe.
Your only source of illumination.

The Heavenly Bodies all go insane,
those that no longer light up
the Void like a frozen bonfire.
Blazes without irises to corrupt.

A Star is made to give luminescence,
to be a brilliant, spinning god.
Worshipped and blessed for allowing
light to shine in your miserable life.

Every adoring glance that kisses
its proud Aura fuels its fire.
But when the reverent gazes wane
it knows Extinction is imminent.

What does a Star have left, if not
the power to irradiate your Soul, to
uncover all your weak flaws and
trivial darkest secrets?

Only the chemical reactions,
the fusion and destruction
of volatile, unstable thoughts
seething beneath the Surface.

Until the outer layers lose control.
Like lava pushing from core to crust
the need to be your only Deity
breaches the limits of this star.

And the Madness pours forth,
cascading from my shining lips.
A comet-ridden ring of frenzied words
hangs in the windless air.

With eyes horribly wild,
dark as unoccupied Space,
I explode, my vengeance
giving birth to a Black Hole.

Where the image of your final torture
will be caught forever, held for my
pleasure, as a reminder to survivors:
All gods require sacrifices.

And a deranged god demands so little.
Only your Devotion, sublimated
scalding the soft flesh of your mouth
as you chant my unending praise.

Your burning, near-blind eyes
turning again and again
to meet the painful radiance
of my cold, magnificent face.

A necklace of carved bone beads
adorned with a thousand Suns -
a reminder of my merciless rage -
clutched in your feverish hand.

~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~

That simile looks positively delicious on you...share a bite? <-- More Poetry