Excerpt for The Seven Rings by Peter Rehard, available in its entirety at Smashwords

THE SEVEN RINGS

PETER REHARD

COPYRIGHT PETER REHARD 2012

Smashwords edition

******

The Seven Rings


Canto I


The Path of Heaven and the Gate of Strength


Forget my lovely mother,

Dead now, no I can not ever.

For with God, I, a sacred pact

Made, my life, so hers longer lasts.

Gave away life for another,

For my own life giving Mother.

I know she that same cross would bare

If her son was caught by Death’s snare,

Gladly pass off with loving eyes,

Proudly for me let go and die.

For two long years in pain was wrought

I, while her body bore the spots:

As men by plague, the Gods control,

Doomed to die, but their reigns still hold,

Pulling them down into Hell’s pits.

Neither there will their torments dint.

Yet I must have angered the dogs

Who on Olympus are called gods

For those two years I feared I died.

Each day in anguish I would cry.

Believing in sleep suspired,

Taking redemption in fire.

So great the ills I suffered were

That each inch of my body burned,

And it was the worst pain I knew;

But, daily it strengthened and grew.

One day I sat outside and saw

The Sun across horizon draw,

Before the moon had took its place

Aloft in Night composed with grace;

Faded and the emptiest grey

Rose up and about the world laid.

But their in the blankness appeared

One single star, as if a tear

Preludes White Selene’s compassion,

Touching all things and dimensions,

Glittered then I saw it rattle,

Dance from side to side and shattered,

Falling down as a gentle rain,

Touched my brow and was gone my pain.

Across my face a gentle breeze

Blew holding fear or ease.

Ominously I sensed a soul

Among the wind its specter blow.

At once grief sounded like a bell

And towards Heaven I cried and yelled.

My voice echoed and the sky shook,

Had the Fates amended their book;

To my Mother I quickly ran

And saw outstretched her dead pale hand.

From her mouth ran a bloody line

Across her cheek, hardened and dry.

Her face once fair now yellow seemed;

Yet, shedding no tear; nor did grieve,

But to my chamber I prepared

Took up glass vials and stripped bare,

Ran hot water into the bath

And while it filled prepared nepenthe,

Composed of roots and opiates

That my own death may expiate,

And in one gulp I drained the draught.

Inside the pool by sleep was caught

As when Somnus and Pluto fight

Over which God controls the life.

I did not know whether I passed.

My soul no longer held its grasp.

Into the ether I up rose,

Bellow my body seemed so cold,

Yet stranger still I could not feel

But knew things to be real,

As when birds in the sky transcend

Great heights then in an instant bend,

Falling downward, but always fly

True to their goal and where it lies.

I knew not where I needed go

But felt it urgent I should know

Why God, my bond with him removed

Rather her soul than mine make use.

Straight forth I flew with little care

Of my vessel into the air.

Sensing the souls which life had spent

Beside journeying to torment,

But others, aiming towards sky.

Among that host I began rise.

The Earthly firmament we break

Coming to a Heavenly gate.

Before the gate an Angel stood

And above the hem of his white hood

A symbol gleamed vibrant, and bright,

Emitting a powerful light:

Like some ancient, mystical rune

Which God creates and man makes use.

I wonder deeply what it meant,

And being blind was not content.

Towards the Seraphim I neared,

Then struck my heart a holy spear.

Tossed by his hand that never errs,

Nor perishes: lives forever.

To the floor of the first ring was bound

My soul nor any strength was found

To remove the shaft, and its hold;

But gazed upon the lucent gold.

Lying constrained in horrid fear,

Suddenly with a burst appeared

One wearing light as a garment,

As if he the sun had harnessed;

Touched the weapon and it crumbled,

And the stone beneath me rumbled.

In that region no word is clear:

Dulled by the music of the Spheres.

Laying still, my question was mute

But knew he said “The one called truth.”

Sensing all like the man whom blind

Touches nothing without his mind,

I tried some inner sight awake;

But, him no clearer could I make.

Half deaf, blind, dumb, I could not feel;

But, yes, I knew things to be real.

His luminous hand my eyes gild

And it an exploding flash filled

With sight now from its inner source,

Blinding with celestial force.

Slowly over time it relieved

Then, real things I began conceive.

Hoping to speak he said it vain,

From my many question refrained.

Patiently as a teacher old

He guides and attention controls,

Spoke “To God’s throne you think are fit

To come questioning what he writ:

For an eternity has lied

Before he bid the atoms bind,

And his will, will forever stand

An eternity after man.

This is your purpose to fulfill.

You come here not upon free will,

But were coming, always, since life

Was grown by God’s hand upon Night.

You to his throne he has allowed

Or called, but it is not a cloud;

Soft and joyous, as men believe.

Nor the sev’n gates open with ease.

The first ring is the gate of strength.

Six more await at such great length

Endless could your trials precede

And never might you be complete.

I come as a guide sent from Him:

Who made the stars. The Good is Him.

Not to answer but you align

With the answer, in your mind.

All men posses my favorite son,

Believe here him and I are one.

Have faith your essence I will bring

To the Holy throne of our King.”

So many questions in me rose

And his title I wanted know;

Whether he was angel or friend,

A soul, god, or walking dead.

I asked the purpose of the gates

And what in the next did await,

Whether heaven, orb, or a plane;

He from my questions refrained.

That he said and the angel bowed;

Lowered the gate, behind we found

A labyrinth deep, dark and black

Fearful my soul wanted turn back,

The door opens by his command,

For those he knows not of man.

Then with my guide the entrance passed.

Now humbled by a maze so vast

Begged “Master, what way shall I take.”

(called him master for it seemed best,

To title one so by light blest)

For a road across the floor ran straight,

And was divided like a grid

Where track, and track, cross through amid

Walls; too a roof position hides.

Each hall seemed to beckon and lie.

Then worse I feared beside contained

Another level: More remained

Which must be the same as the first.

Each rim alike the Universe.

From bellow to the plain I came

And was opposed by that high gate;

Yet, as a sprite distances seemed

Shorter than they must really be.

As when upon the seas strong waves

A captain, by night, navigates.

The Ocean to his eyes so small

Appears when compared to the stars.

Thus a light year had no meaning,

When one knows space continuing,

Does extend in all direction,

As lines with imagination.

Until my destination was set

at the end of infiniteness,

I had not weighed the length of time

Nor fully pictured in my mind

How far I have came and must yet

Journey, making any progress;

But, my guide put those thoughts to ease.

truth brings the soul, purest relief.

Saying “Soon all things you will know

And I have warned the path is slow;

This is not the realm of Wisdom;

But lies separate and far from,

None here are holding directions;

Seeing by their speculation

Have not been awakened by me;

But, for ages go wandering

Waylaid, and wayward through the maze:

That has no right path, nor right way.

Do not now consider the shape

Of Heaven or how it was made,

Nor distances that the mind thinks

Insurmountable to complete

For time is only a unit

Measured by man watching orbits.

Heaven has no powerful Sun

Except the one born of Great God.

And distance is nothing when time

Stands still for the highest Divine;

Yet, before going tell I must

For in you, like wise do I trust.

Each high Angel these souls contrive

To aid more from when they alive

Possessed a body full of ills;

And now final service fulfill.

But you bare a forbidden Mark

Where Strength struck: Tore your chest apart.

Dead you are, but not forever

Human life might you remember.

All will know you are forbidden.

From no one will help be given,

But as a trespasser will scorn

You. Of the Seraphim be warned.

From those souls no harm can you take,

But the Angels above each gate

Follow the will of God always:

Never faulty, nor can degrade.

As their Duty, you chain and lock

Forev’r to adamantine rock,

At any sight of your specter

Despite who is your protector.

Though you came to answer God’s call

The Seraphim must hold their walls”

“Importunely marked, in what way

Could I come near and pass each gate!”

Said I in most rueful content,

Vaunting and my ire made vent.

“How could the divinely chosen

Truly be a foe in heaven;

Yet, now the maze of Strength awaits

For you to master and defeat.”

He answered calming my spirit.

And we entered the Labyrinth.

********

Canto II


The Middle Hold and Minotaur


Each path, each wall had no entrance;

Greatly disturbed by the presence

Of the many souls sick and weak

I became tentative and meek,

For over their ether a rash

Bubbled, and it was cut and gashed.

Strengthless they were dead, dull and pale.

Throughout the paths they moaned and wailed.

Asking “If there is no exit

Nor right way in this Labyrinth,

How long until becoming frail

Like old soldiers in broken mail

Without a shield are defenseless

Go will I before my essence

Like my unlucky brethren;

I see the ill fated omen;

Wander these paths and touching walls

As if in each footstep I fall

Or trigger some avenging trap

That sits hidden between each crack,

Lay my motions ever slowly

For my cowardice of folly.

Look this chamber we are now in.

Entered quickly but at its end

Found no way around or exit.

The halls, and walls, and stones must shift.

The entrance which we came is sealed.

Nor any exit can I feel.

Each stone I grab thinking it holds

An answer, I go further slow

Go on but only in retreat;

At the end a beginning meet.

Like objects falling through black holes;

I grow feeble passing each soul.

For once as I the same path went:

Doomed forev’r the course circumvent.

With each foot and step I lose strength,

Nor do I gain any distance.

I will be spent at no great length.”

“Allowing the perishing will

Rest and recourse; forever, still

Like the souls who have lost their way.

Worse sight of what they hoped to gain,

Only then will that visage keep

Alike to them, bereft of peace,

Move always, but never at all

Being enclosed by ev’ry stone wall.

Earthly laws here do not apply.

How foolish walk when you can fly.”

Spoke Light and my vigor awakes.

With fresh energy new paths take;

Yet no way clear could I define

Or rise into the air and fly.

But over time, thinking began

See my ethereal limbs and hands

Pass through one another as false

Images are cast upon walls

By a hand, becomes distorted

When skin the picture deflected.

My soul was not transfixed firmly

Chained beside vice in the body,

But as if Zephyr keeps a form,

So I alike wind am born.

Perhaps I can not fly but drift

As the breeze touches all then slips

By crevice, bolted lock and crack.

Is both in front and at man’s back.

Not then gently but with great force

I Pushed my sprite through the rock’s pores.

Where once I was blocked from going;

Being trapped since I unknowing

Held ignorance of my new state,

Was chained by ignorance in place.

Where once all actions did avail--

Over the gray rocks I prevailed.

So went my guide and I with ease

Until a soul by memory

Awoke an image of a face,

Or member of the earthly race

That I perchance had met before,

Laying still embracing the floor

And to my guide urgently said

“Master is he living or dead?”

“Those words here can have no meaning.

Test if he has strength remaining.”

I touched him and with a moan cried

“Better if I was not alive!

Better if I was not created

Than lay here lost and defeated.

Once I prospered where men found tears,

Bullets, blood and their darkest fears.

Taking blows from common brothers,

Yelling for their dear, dear. mothers .

In grease and gore I stood firmly,

Composed and with virility

Like a lion through the bush runs

All before him bow and succum

When dry grass beneath his paw breaks,

Roars, you as an enemy takes;

But see how by the maze has changed

I, now battling the rocky grain.”

“Master,” I said, “I knew him well,

If he in my home town used to dwell.

Where did your mother give birth?

Where did you live upon the earth?”

“Near America’s South east shores,

Where men are rich and women whores.”

“On earth I knew you as Visman,

Yet here I could not envision,

Of the seven rings trapped by first,

Alive by this you proved your worth.”

“Have you not seen how they differ

Between the firmaments: alters

Ideas to reality.

My fault is spiritually.

Go on! This is no place for friends

Or memories of broken ends.”

I wanted pull him to his feet,

And carry his burden with me;

But, true light said it was no use

For he must the way alone renew.

So we left him there as the rest

Souls wandering an endless quest.

As zombies: eyes closed, open mouthed;

drones in hives going further down,

Up, all movements are in vain.

Existence by them seems inane.

Thousands were there and thousands more.

Worse, as ghouls, their sight I abhorred.

Each looked at me as if I harmed

Their essence, or by mystic charm

Imprisoned them forever here

Where each wall is the same as there.

The realm of strength and chambers closed

Where nothing came from strongest souls.

How long we went I can not say,

Yet counting each step of the way:

Ten-thousand score, by nine-hundred

I counted once and abandoned

As a foot in a marathon

That past the finish line goes on

Forev’r, forev’r; so long a word

When thinking from a living world.

Somewhere between infinity

We came where all lies equally,

And at the rings most centered part

A second circle, at its heart,

Like a giant perishing star

Black and red stood a Minotaur.

At my soul he looked and roared,

Bellowing spat up blood and gore,

Along his body ran deep scars:

Bled eternally, dripped like tar;

From his mouth spat a viscid slime

Coating his flesh in yellow grime.

His imposing muscles were torn,

And his tendons and sinews shorn;

But worst of all his fragile horns:

Shattered: in each step broken more.

With his awful hands an axe weilds;

Upon his forehead the same seal

That marked strength’s angel, burned and glowed:

Over his eyes violence throws.

Stomping, he started towards me.

Horrified to my guide, I reached,

“Master, by what means do monsters

Dead on earth next in sky wander

As angels or the heavenly

Escape God and contumely

To adverse divinely chosen.

Whether this is sign or omen,

A test or breaking of his laws;

You say God can not possess flaw;

Whether challenge or misfortune,

Pass or retreat by this portent;

How can it in strength’s realm exist

Among the good which it conflicts?”

“God,” said he, “allows truths known,

Yet hides some as he does his form.

All things for souls are not fit.

Rather than question what he writ

Face the trials and trust in him.

Faith is your only salvation.

You need no weapon to prove force,

Beat the monster, escape the course!”

As he finished the sharpened blade

Struck the ground, my specter near maimed.

But to the right with a jump dived,

Road, and further right made my stride.

Always cautious, his blows evade

Let them strike the floor, on it lay

Destruction which he means for me,

Halting my chosen destiny,

Tossing up stone and marble rock

In powdered dust, molten red: hot.

As his axe sliced the timid air,

By the wind blew the souls' despair.

Sensing now far more than ever,

(By it the beast took as bever)

What sickened both my hope and will.

Right, again through the muck and swill,

Continued right so many times,

Dodging blows and routed in grime,

Circled the monster as defense,

Could strike no blow, or make offense;

But in the palpitating air

I sensed all my brothers’ despair.

My failing will, its pace soon slacked,

Felt blood and puss drop on my back.

Felt flesh and gore over me lay,

And heard the whining of his blade;

Could see behind the forceful beast

A tower of death made for me.

The strength for one last move I drew.

Went sharply right but how he grew,

When close by my gaze began rise

From his cracked hooves to deadly eyes.

Seeing the giant towering,

So wroth in ire, vomiting,

What else could be done but embrace

Death, assuming my cosmic place.

Through its bile with a cry yelled,

Inspired or with faith compelled

“Whether immortal or demon,

Lamb of god or hell's heathen,

Whether darkness or light protects;

I fear not what awaits me next.

Dead I am, or dead my body.

The soul should continue always.

What destruction can you reap me

When my specter has no feeling.

I defy time and pass through walls;

But now can not defy gods laws.

I take faith over disbelief…

In God’s destiny take relief.”

With a clang and jolt his ax bound

Deeply into the broken ground,

Passing through me with no effect,

No wound, no gash, no cut it left.

The forceless Minotaur went back

To the center leaving his ax.

With new power I felt imbued

And the next rim began to view.

A new force awoke in my soul.

Throughout me strength began to grow.

Inside a small flame became lit,

Like the end of a candle wick;

And where the beast stood a portal

Burst out of the rock and marble.

My guide and I, stepping forth, through;

And, a new realm began to view.


Canto III


The ring of wisdom and new guide.


To of these events begin speak

Seems not within my mortal reach.

Yes, mortal though once I was dead;

Forget! it awaits up far ahead.

Phoebus does not beside me sing,

Nor can you hear the muses bring

On light feet the Olympian's fame,

Firstly singing of their father’s name.

Greatly do I struggle in speech.

With each word I think fail and leach

Off the famous poets before:

Singing clearly and singing more;

But this journey I am bound to tell

Whether successful or I fail.

Thinking once for my dead mother

The course of fate could be altered,

Did so much but for what reason?

As through perennial seasons

Relief farmers plant, grow, and reap

The things they want; not what they need.

Turning harvests into poison

Drawn from the sun pure and foison;

Yet all men think possessions could

Substitute equally the good.

Finding myself in a new realm

Having past strength I could not tell

What should come next or where we were,

How heaven was set; to truth turned

“What has happened? In a burst here

We have not come, simply appeared.

This rim seems quite the same as first:

The wall and the angel above its girth,

Seem the same, has by awful fate

Somnus changed his dreaming to hate!”

Said I crying if souls could tear

And saw the guard and truth come near,

With their hands outstretched. I then said

As if they wished the death I dread.

“O miserable life betrayed

By master who in faith I laid,

Followed blindly and to the end.

Nullified by one I called friend!”

Distraught I moaned, bitterly sighed,

Loathing the angel and my guide,

Cursed the names of truth and great good,

Swore and scowled at where they stood.

As when prisoners from chains break

But fear death far less than escape

Or lost men hiding from rescue.

Easier call what he knows truth

Than lose what makes him what he is.

Thinking he has some importance

Becomes cunning and suspicious,

Believes men aid to harm grows vicious.

“Foolish soul be still and quiet.”

Said my guide but I grew violent.

And the Seraphim took my arms,

Held me knowing I wished them harm.

By his four bright wings I was wrapped

And with a scroll in his hands trapped.

“All you now possess was given

By me from the word of heaven,”

Said the figure of light called Truth.

Instant all my anger did lose.

“Do you believe a common soul

Passes strength and no wisdom holds?

Thousands and thousands souls still there

Will exist eternally where

One only leaves by thoughtful life:

Earthly reflections save the sprite,

Or an understanding of heav’n.

By faith and mind an answer gives;

Yet, with me beside you obtained

Yes, not the answer but the way.

as at night nothing can be seen

But by daylight a vivid scene.

In heaven you are not alike

The other souls, and God knows right

That you be brought by help to him,

Brought, not alone, start, and begin.

Thus finished you will not be pure

And life again you might endure.

Knowing all, but all not wholly

Is contradicting and folly,

Yet this is what God has ordained

And shall be worse than two years pain

Having to suffer in your mind

Incompleteness, for answers pine.

You are fit to enter; not stay

In god’s city eternally

Quiet your voice and knowledge take,

As much you can knowing god’s grace.”

Humbled on the floor regret found.

“Pour soul,” Light said, “your soul changes

But still your life force is hanging

To the body bellow on earth.

Sad this is not your second birth,

Only a division between

Good and bad. You are not free.

Six rings more challenging remain.

Where but half of you can face them.”

If I could cry I would have then

For I drew fire on a friend.

Over powered by wisdom’s ring

I searched for words to make amends.

Good truth said I need not repent,

Pulled me up and the seraphim,

Opened the gate by his emblem.

Straight forth we came to green fields.

The sky foamed and was with blue filled;

Yet, above not a single cloud

In the azure expanse was found,

Upon the floor a green fog rolled

And it flickered from blue to gold.

Nor plants, flowers or animals,

Existed only the souls were

Sitting, planted in gas like seeds.

Over time might grow into trees,

Beautiful flowers and orchids

Once by ring and light were nourished.

Millions sat there awaiting rain,

Hands up stretched, from the downpour gain

Realization of a truth

Or by revelation their worth;

Forever, forever I saw

The planted souls in that good lawn.

But on my essence I felt start

A film, a disease scold and smart.

When I neared they shunned my presence

As an outcast and thought’s menace.

“In this realm I must remain now.

I am always to wisdom bound,”

Said my guide and I in dismay

Asked while my rash increased in pain,

“If I am not fully a soul

And can not on my own the goal

Reach without a companions aid;

Too here all souls my essence hate,

How shall I go in such constraints?

Alone, knowing alone abates.”

“There is one I know of who could

Give aid in your search for the good.

A soul once lived the purest life,”

Said to my questioning, my guide.

“He sought truth always by reason.

Thus his soul was in best condition.

Dead, considered to good for hell,

towards heaven he flew and fell,

Would rise, and to the firmament

Touch truth falling back; never relents.

No angel o’er him power held.

No word or fear his spirit quelled.

He shunned ancient Lucifer’s gate

Where all souls then were forced await

The hallowing and son of good;

Would have come had god not withstood

The many attempts at entrance

Into high and holy heaven.

Long ago outside hell he met

The soul by which mankind is blessed.

For millennium he has been

Here over the good reflecting.

Now I sense he knows all really

And will continue his journey.

So, alike you, he will go on

To the next ring and next along.

No better soul with you can lead.

None better the right way decry.”

Then to a soul alone we came.

His aura was calm but a flame

Passed the thousands digging with roots

For a thought, wisdom or pure truth.

Within his specter burned and glowed

And the inner light through him flowed.

Soft and warm he set my ether,

When it shown upon my specter,

As comforted in summer air;

Yet cold when to this is compared.

Without a touch he held me firmly,

And no longer was I surly,

But subdued and ready to take,

What sense of my confusion make.

Truth looked at me and bid goodbye

A lighting bolt or flash the sky

Received and then a dim glow fell.

Wisdom’s souls seemed to think it well

For they began to nod and glow.

It caused their own inner lights grow,

And some dropped pieces of their rash

That on top of their spirits sat.

“Friend or guide,” I said quietly

“I am lost in these happenings,

Coming to that ring of strength first

Only for an answer I pushed.

Now feeling as a young child when

Lost, hindered by comprehension,

Muttering, his thoughts make no sense”

“Brother be still you will not want hence.

But before learning come to ease

Then may gain by smaller degrees.”

I sensed the music of the spheres,

Churning, grinding like metal gears.

All thoughts by them were diluted,

Distracted I felt polluted.

“Firstly,” he said, “Earth senses cast off.

The inner site better suites those aloft,

With good, or the rings of virtue;

Your better thoughts will misuse.

Leave hearing, smell, tough, sight and taste

In the body, that is their place.

For why see what can not be seen

And worse degrade reality?

It is always better to know

Not needing what an eye can show

Each part of your soul is an ear,

An eye, a mind, by the soul hear.

Then music that seemed clamorous,

Sounds in each ear harmonious.

Have not an eye but be sight,

Nor smell but know odors true-right”

Sinking back into the green gas,

The music opened up at last

And like the pleasure of a kiss

On the hands, neck, back, cheek or lips

From a true love; and the pure bond

Works to increase the sensation;

I, one of existences parts

Felt love and the bond begin start,

Envelope all of my sprite in joy,

Pleasured me and my mind deployed

Confusion, taking up new thought.

No longer did I feel so lost.

********

Canto IV


The knowledge of Good and Evil


Reflecting o’er many hours

Things within my dual powers

Began to know, and know truly

Though not fully and wholly.

Now if I spoke of all I learned

Many more pages must be turned,

In the stead of geometry,

Physics, and astronomy

All explained in fullest detail

Accept I would surely fail

And say what I of heaven learned.

Once I calmed and myself controlled

Sensing each fragment of my soul

Possessing a limitless mind

Make progress in its search for why

Began know of numbers and forms

And from where our ideas are born,

Knew lines, shapes, and identities,

Particles, points and gravity,

Time, space, past, future and present,

Began to know what all things meant.

Then with a question to my guide,

My brother, asked how heaven lied.

“If all of these things coexist

Like a bowl in which all is mixed,

If truth is here and justice there,

Whether free or fixed in the air,

If one is there and one is here,

Temperance far or evil near,

How can one begin partake

Of one, or does it lesser make.

No longer whole, no longer true

Does it grow or itself renew,

Does it move, or encompass all,

Laying level or circular?

If one is one and two is two

And one is the lesser of two

How can two be made of two ones

When one can only be the one?

How can a strong man be unwise;

Do they together coincide?

Do all things share a connections?”

“No nothing is so connected,

But close your mind and imagine

How there are many dimensions.”

Said the old soul and, “Like a book,

Is the many layered universe,

But on a single page compressed,

And at the same time separate.

Truth in its own realm is present,

So is strength, courage, temperance,

Wisdom, justice, wealth, and beauty:

All things exist with clarity

In their realms and from them man takes

Ideas of perfected states;

Yet, on earth where nothing is true,

The idea has but little use.

If by reason, in terms of good,

The reflections with patience could

Purify the soul while living

And cultivate it for heaven.

Being hindered by the senses

And the foul bodies weaknesses.

Not until death grants us freedom

Do we obtain a true wisdom

And partake of the layered fields:

Holding perfection and truth yield.

Strength’s rim is immortality,

But on earth its reality

Is distorted and men believe,

Strength is power over the weak.

So is wisdom thought to be facts

But so much in truth does it lacks.”

(What mystery the universe

Where all is blended and immersed,

Contained in its own dimension

Yet in their realms not connected)

“Then,” I asked, “evil too resides

Layered with the good or beside?”

“Compressed,” he told, “but not the same.

Alive men commit wrong as right.

Thinking the wrong adds good to life,

Believing bodily pleasure is good,

Or that gold is better than wood,

They say pleasure, but mean relief

And this is from where stems their grief.

Men think life is better than death,

And poverty lesser than wealth,

For the good and bad have been blurred

Thus men do what make their souls worse,

Yet never do those two combine

Or perish though they seem to bind.

As money can be used as both:

Aid or destruction: seems as both

But one retreats over powered when

When in an object it flowers,

Grows and its attributes outspread

Its counterpart and opposite.

Both in heaven are separate

For souls from senses are exempt.”

“As you said virtue differs there,”

I began, “ How must they compare.

If strength’s perception there is wrong,

Can there on earth be right or wrong?”

“Not truly, but the idea

If upheld by questioned reason

Will allow the good to prevail

And inevitably bad fails.”

“On earth virtue must be knowledge

Of ideas, not appearance.”

“Yes, not like the parts of a face

But square boxes by gold encased.

Having one common character

Making the other possible.

But being pieces, or a part

They must all from some greater stem.”

“Then in heaven knowledge of truth

Its identity is virtue,

And perhaps a portion of the good.

Then easier in its own realm,

To define it and comprehend.”

“Yes! Friend, what can you infer now

Of wisdom draw away its shroud

And know what of this realm you must

And then go off to temperance.”

“The knowledge of good and evil.”

Over that thought I began think

And good and bad together link.

Yes, I knew the good to be good

And bad the opposite of good,

I sensed the good to be pleasing

And bad to be harmful, really.

What sense comes from similar names

Or identities that are in vain.

I knew not what good or evil

Was nor could say god or devil.

I wanted call them ancient laws

Ordained, written by holy god.

I thought they could be outer rims,

Slightly thicker holding all in.

Then in a flash the answer came

Sadly that truth in heaven stays

For it is the same as god’s form.

Some mysteries are forev’r sworn,

Protected by a holy seal,

Unbreakable and ethereal.

Always in the realm of being

And hid from human eyes viewing.

Next I began to draw the lines,

Between good and bad in my mind.

I knew the good and found it right

Knew evil and its fake insight

And defined what was good and bad

Knowing right as a soul not man.

Then my new guide uprose and said

“Now, my friend do you understand?”

“I know not all and all fully,

But think I comprehend really,

In stability and control.

I believe I can sense by soul.”

He laid his hands upon my face.

I sensed the heat from his soul race

Throughout my specter and he smiled;

Embraced me loving and mild.

“You and I will make this journey

Together in fraternity.

Lending each other help in need,”

He said and I nodding agreed

“With you beside I have no fear,”

I said and followed him to where

An unmeasurable amount

Of soul dotting the plains throughout

As when men gather at parades

Or armies before they engage

Sit encamped and by the future

Are froze with thoughts of torture

Or awaiting a festival

Men smile and are jovial.

So were the fields of men in thought

Mixed with like of both feelings wrought.

Some sat alone, cried, inflicted

By a pain of their ignorance

Or from their beliefs hindrance,

As each new thought caused discomfort

Breaking down their past imparts.

I pitied those souls for I knew

Their blindness before mine withdrew.

They mashed their teeth and faces rent,

Screaming madly, beating their breast,

And their were some who were silent

Staring blankly and kept quiet

As if a thought proved out of reach

With hands upraised to be set free.

And their were some caught by pleasure,

Not the earthly but true pleasure.

Men still, were grouped in parties

Sadly some souls were debating,

And certain souls like orators

Led the groups as flatterers:

There were bands of dialectics,

Liars, prophets, sophists, hectics.

But we passed all to the center,

Spoke no word and sought to enter

The next region of perfection

That my guide said was temperance.

In the middle by the inner gate

That does to other rims transport

Another seraphim was lord

Of the portal, brandished his sword.

A seal was engraved on its hilt:

A golden mark of wisdom gilt.

As we approached a lightning,

Emblazoned through the air flashing,

Near struck my specter had not light

Intervened, granting me respite,

Brokering us through the portal

Where are souls face marks of mortal.

********

Canto V


The Ring of Temperance and First Hall


I have seen the body grow frail

Beneath earthly sin and fail

As the good becomes a pleasure

Or the bad can not be weathered.

Like a hungry beast at last

Set free devours all it grasps

And becoming a slave again

To food, sex, drugs, and other sins,

Loses itself and rampages

Yet never breaks its new cages ,

Nor knows it to be a burden

longing for the old confinement.

O, how has my voice began change

As through the realms of heaven range

Like the poets inside dark caves

From the shadows speeches creates;

Yet, after his second exit,

Seeing the light, speaks different

Once his eyes to real truth adjust

And his old singing seems unjust.

So do I wonder if it harms

Lies to men for a greater cause.

Then must violent beasts be subdued

To prevent themselves worse abuse;

Better if stopped on his own accord

Yet, what if a lie is the source.

We appeared into a great hall

Encased by a half circled wall.

At the forefront was a large door
built of hard adamantine boards.

Rising to the ceiling, engraved

A mark of temperance, displayed

Upon the door. A mellow light

Off the crest rose and struck us quite.

“What an oppressive door,” I said
“Where is the one of Temperance,

Keeping watch, the chamber holds?”

“Forget him and let us further go.”

Said my friend as we slowly approached

and into the framing encroached.

The entrance large as a planet

Holding but the one monument:

The door: a towering statue

Contrasting the blank room’s white hue,

Seemed to be large as city

And the entrance infinity.

I stood there wondering, fearing,

From the door to the walls turning,

But my wise guide, the handle grasped,

Pulled, though froze was the lock and clasp.

So we for a time began pace

About the white and barren place.

Until at length the door opened

And entered the fourth seraphim.

I in terror drew back and screamed.

Passing my guide took hold of me,

Before giving me a warning,

With his four wings to him he drew

And onto the floor, I, he threw,

Beating me with his holy arms;

Striking me blank but did no harm.

“No hall will lead you the wrong way

Nor do any rooms good contain.

Your going I can not prevent

For I see you are heaven sent..

Be temperant and ever mild,

Cleansing your soul of the marks vile,

Remaining from an earthly life.”

Those words cut into me like a knife

And knew all of the blemishes:

Sins covering me like rashes,

Puss filled boils and open wounds,

Dripping bile and rotting stool.

One for each done iniquity:

Lust, sloth, wrath, greed, and gluttony.

“Worry not over appearance,

Only of the soul’s existence.”

Through the third holy seal we break

Into a hall, so great its length,

A million miles were a foot;

A million feet followed the first.

Curving upward and towards far left,

Breaks on the rim where it is cleft.

Starts where the radii bisects

The entrance, ends where circumvents

The centers angle bisected:

Its ray through the mid circles breadth.

Doors on both sides bordered along

The walls, through the hallway a throng

Walked, sparse, a single file train

From room to room and back again.

No attention they gave to me,

Or my guide but in front of me

Went through a door or exited

In relief or a depression,

As the halls of houses of flesh

Where men come and go but are left

Whether or not they know

Of the injury to their souls

With black marks of iniquity

Slicing into their dignity.

The first left door we touched and pushed

And into what a scene we burst.

Arrayed like a hedonist’s feast

Where more is favored to the least.

Arranged in rows extending on

Forever, always, and anon,

Tables filled with flattering tastes;

Sherberts, pastries, ices and cakes

That exult the mouth in sweetness

Appealing to sense's weakness.

Souls on chairs and couches reclined,

Vomited, ate, vomited, lied,

Swallowed meats, choked, gargled and spat,

Took their bile eating it back.

“What a strange room we have entered

Where food the soul overpowers.”

I wished I could speak to the souls,

But consumed in their plates and bowls

Never began my essence loathe

Or the mark of banishment know,

That I held, in temptation

Ate as if it was salvation

Like men by water say are cleaned

Submerged in rivers and streams

Take unto them condemnation

Thinking faith an act’s devotion.

My friend with a party conversed

While I wandered along the course

For food I had no desire

Or let my soul as bodies tire.

How can food fuel an immortal

Even if it wants temporal?

After a time my guide returned

And spoke to me of what he learned.

“The ring of temperance stands true,

Filled with such imprisoning rooms

As many could be found on earth

Composed of what bodies make worth.

This room of food onward extends.

All victuals from rot suspend,

Grow, preserve, replenish, renew;

But to our purpose serves no use.

These souls through the chambers have roamed

And to me with laughter informed

That to advance all doors must be faced.

The second hall behind one awaits,

And most in this room have not stayed;

Growing in other rooms afraid,

Flee back to this natural vice

Forgetting how they strong and wise

Over came heavens two first rings

Allowing residual sin

Defile and advert the way.”

“Then let us no longer remain.”

“The two of us must make a pact

Never to leave the other back,”

Proposed my guide and made me swear;

Bound the pledge in the hungry air.

“For one room will heavier way

On the other tempting him stay,

And vice to be good he will think

As his soul and body relink.”

We slipped off from the comic host

Leaving them to their gluttoned toasts,

Left and into the next room went

Where my friend was took in torment.

Bottles of beer, spirits and wine

Continued on in rows and lines

To the rooms astronomic end

And the souls would drink to the end,

Would drink as if they had sorrow

Unquenchable as tomorrow.

My poor friend a bottle took, drained

Yet not inside of him remained

But his drought ran onto the floor;

Unrelenting drank more and more.

As my hand extended him aid

Like a ghost or dead winter shade

I sensed I knew a specter there

Who drank of bottle like the air.

Frantically grasping one by one

As if by them pain was undone.

And all the love within me broke

Nor could I move my hands one note

To hold her close, convey my heart

Nor the good and wants know apart.

To speak with god my purpose was

For my own wants and his good cause;

O, I would have lost all to be

Beside her if she had known me.

I pulled my guide from alcohol

Through the door back into the hall.

He said, “The grape was my worst sin

And at times drank o’er my children.

How wrong! Murderous the vine is

Grown by vile Dionysus .

How foolish I to favor

A grape and before good waver.

Thank you friend I owe you all.”

The scabs of his blemish began fall.

No imperfection his soul donned.

Yet my memory did not wan.

Then my guide embraced me warmly

Saying “Who was that soul you found,

Shook you as if on earth were bound,

Connected by a love so fair

It even doubles in despair.

“Call her by the name Morticia,

Dollores, or puella Bella,

Or call her my only reason,

Call her spring in winter’s season,

But memory has her relieved

As if the bottles held Lethe.

Now my path is only selfish,

Contrary to the good I wish.

Better had I never began,

Tempted god, wished, hoped and demand

Some answer when the answer sits

Always in the heart and my wits.”

“For you to come it is set down,

Often actions, reasons abound

Now if you know which way is right,

Which choice should have been made that night

Follow then the greater of goods

And in these rooms search rather brood.”

I assent and into the third

Room we went with no other words.

That door, a lounge of opiates

Behind, were men so delicate,

Sat smoking through eternity.

We removed our proximity.

Rather than dope our given minds

And fear, by a fear of its kind.

The fourth right door a hall contained

Yet many more behind remained.


Canto VI


The remaining rooms in the halls of Temperance


My guide and I found resistance

Against the edible vices,

Though he wanted drink and I dope

We battled desire and coped,

Healing our residual marks:

Human sin that on the soul rots;

Became pure, my guide, near perfect.

I lost three unwanted defects

Falling of my spirit like snow

When winds through the winters blow.

Yet worse halfway surpassed reason:

My purpose for journeying on.

Before another door we tried.

Our sin, vice, feeling be decried.

I opened up and let outspread

My confusion and misplaced dread

Like a river forged by new rains,

Trickles slowly then it gains

Force unstoppable, trees up route

And a gorge forms by its hard route.

“If my mother on earth suffers

And in heaven by chance prospers

So better for her to have died,

Sense Good, Truth and with God beside

Have pleasure for eternity

Being of the divinity.

Pain and wrong in the body live,

Only blemishes the soul gives.

I know! Yet what is my purpose

To come before god blasphemous.

Do I go for the greatest good?

Before I came, misunderstood

and perhaps did good thinking wrong.

Foolish, misguided as the throng

Which throughout these halls makes its way

Nor from its memory abstains.

Why am I following the good

When each soul thinks sin is good?”

“All souls,” he said, “will face demons,

And it time will find the reason

To end what once did gratify

The body in the quickest time

Siding with what pleasures the soul.

The good as we have come to know.”

Put to ease by my wisest friend

Opened the next door and found sex.

On a stage covered by four wings

Stood naked a young cherubim.

After the angel all souls lust

And towards it they would run;

Yet, the angel from their grasps slips

Into the air, by its wings drifts.

The souls would all lustfully cry

And from their phantom loins rot whine.

Many stages that room did hold

And Cherubim coated in gold.

Instead of inwardly assaults

That would produce nothing but fault,

We Left, in the next room found men

Lying with each other content,

Left and found many fetishes:

Jewels of desire’s wishes.

All so perverted that to speak

Of the sodomy makes me weak.

By a right door into the next hall,

Entered a door on the left wall.

Now in the third long corridor

Found basic temptations no more,

But the complexities of mind

Intermingled: human, divine.

No animal such things can feel,

Nor can one say all of them real.

But in the remaining halls: five

Does not breed the appetitive.

Like blood shooting into the heart

We opened the door to honor.

Stood on platforms showered by praise

Were souls by angels had no names,

Committed no act or great feat,

But honor donned like olive wreaths,

Anointing themselves with perfumes,

Holding perched doves that never flew.

Honor to us was an old name

Given to those who desired fame.

The whole ring was alike to when

One finds loose a man and women.

We hoped in the next room would be

A mind’s joy, but found vanity.

In the room were many mirrors

One for each soul to stand before

And they stood with no eyes to look

Pleasure from the removal took.

We opened each door, saw then left

As when in a gallery guests,

Gather from an artwork a theme,

With the knowledge silently leave.

We sensed the excess of riches

And too the extreme of despots.

With four more marks off my spirit

We walked and broke the quiet

With reflection of temperance.

Taking a right door as passage

To the forth hall had no assuage.

A level we came to believe

For all things of man ran between

And it wavered from side to side.

Best at center balance abide.

We entered the first door of five

Filled with the sufferings of pride.

The souls as when an Alpha male

Ages and his strength begins fail,

Pitied not by the pride or pack

But only himself for his lack

Leaves rather than take a low state

And once again be supplicate.

The second was envy’s leering room,

Devoid of objects; yet, remove.

They envy a soul for a soul

Or the identity alone,

For in some way they themselves loathed.

As do the greedy in the third

Whom want though they have left the world

And possessions have no value,

Nor any possessions to view.

The fourth: a room of souls restless.

Comprised of sprites who thought useless

Themselves, action and any thought

Wind about and their specters taught,

Bend, spin, tear, rip, twist, and release,

But always moving never cease.

The fifth room was of depression

Souls that sloth had made impression.

My guide and I left the five pits

Took its meaning and then out-slipped.

By those human things not tempted

Saw their truth and then repented

Though no dialectic was held

With any soul it was all well,

For by their actions we obtained

Much more than their speech could convey

For to my guide in the sixth hall

Before we began inspect, stalled.

“You say these rooms filled by demons

Have purpose, what is the reason?”

“We have opened room after room.

Opened more and passed many rooms

Sensing the earthly things of man

Remaining on the soul as brands.

Though a soul, some human remains.

As you are connected so they;

Yet, not by the body but sin.

So their good seems come from the sin.

But greatness stems from purity.

Men may call it purgatory.

A quest for purification.

To break the earthly connections.

The body on the soul imparts

Forever its temporal parts

Over good and bad you wonder.

It is man himself you ponder.

Things of him to both are innate,

Yet towards both can lean and change.

Evil attacks the lesser part

And it sits within mans loins and heart.

Without good their can be no bad,

Or good, untested by the bad.”

Then we entered the door of grief,

Mourning the past in no relief

Were souls tearing at their specters

In ash pits as they remember

All events and earthly actions

Ending in negative substance.

Crying and moaning, but to where;

In uncontrollable despair.

We did not to them try and talk.

They could only yell out. We walked.

And into another room the same

It seemed; yet they did not deface,

With ashes and wounds their spirits,

Only seemed to possess great regret.

With any soul we could not speak

Or our own aid to them outreach.

Simply take a meaning: retire.

Pass, enter, exit, pass, retire,

Going right but the hall went left,

Curving, elipsing, the rings end.

Choosing many doors unknowing,

Some empty, filled or alien.

Came to and through a doorway wet

We, From tears which longing had let.

Want for old loves, and old friends

And old chances to make amends.

We left and into the last hall

Found three doors between two walls.

The first of love, the second zeal

Such strong bonds to both rooms we feel.

Occupying them longer then all,

Nearly in them finding second fault.

The temptation of them seemed pure

And into the rooms we were lured,

By our love and zeal for the good,

But did not know the good withstood,

Being God who can not be known

Wholly or his visage shown.

Knew good to the heavenly point

Where the crag and summit are joined.

In the hall we died and mourned.

Holding each other ourselves scorned,

Believing we knew all before.

We touched those two most fatal doors.

And knew the extent of blindness,

When faith and truth are distorted.

Through the third door we went, entered

Found the inner ring, its center.

My composure had been forgone.

I could neither move or go on

Because the angel guarding was

Ablaze, sensing my many flaws,

In stance, poise, and ready to strike,

Nor was I a match for his might

And said, “Friend, I am frozen here.

My mother is gone. The good? Where?

For what reason do I go on

When the reason have passed along

The halls, rooms, mazes, and wide plains.

I have not love or truth obtained…”

“Blinded by the body so now.

Then what does the purpose amount?

You have said the good to be god.

Can not know good, believe in Good!

Faith, faith, faith is alike to truth

And loved far more by him than truth.”

Strength, wisdom, and temperance shined

By good, and faith, and truth aligned.

With good’s name the seraphim bowed,

Acquiesced to us and allowed

The portal into the fourth ring

Burst forth before us and opened.

Before we entered, my spirit sensed

It was nearly, completely cleansed.

The light within me sparked and grew

Luminous; yet, my body knew

Still holding me from purity

And my mind in perplexity

Over the dual existence

And how I was allowed persist.


Canto VII


Justice and the Judging of Kings


Words have no meaning, men have minds

And perhaps the poet no time

To work an end of flattery.

Words themselves conjure imagery.

If “an apple” the poet said

Would not one picture it as red?

Whether it red, yellow, or green,

Or said “a green apple.” Be seen

Regardless for an instant red.

Either hearing or the words read.

Though men take pleasure in eloquence

Poets should speak to importance.

Through a portal of the third gate

We appeared. Obeisance made

To a hammer wielding angel.

His wings and robe burned and blazed on

With light provoking our judgment.

Unsure, relenting, reverent

Moved not but bowing down before

The just ruler of the fourth door.

As he towards us made motions

And said that I was forbidden

Again to go, but did not strike

Or attack or begin to fight.

The seraphim of such power,

I know not how many hours,

Stood still and completely quiet

Contrasting the prior violence

I had suffered in other rings.

He stood fluttering his four wings.

We knew not how to gain entrance.

My friend would not leave my presence

Though he was allowed to go on.

For a good age we sat and thought.

Then time to him an answer brought.

He arose and began to tell

Loudly speaking to the angel.

“Seraphim who rules o’er justice.

We have proven our temperance.”

Then my friend by the hand brought me.

“Though his soul and humanity

Are connected, temperate still

Has been judged right by heaven’s will.

Does temperance proceed justice?

Being temperate have justice

To know good and bad in others.

For in him the soul too masters.

You are bound to heavenly laws,

And can not keep us from this wall.”

The angel subdued knelt and bowed,

Laying his hammer on the ground.

Unlocked the fourth of heaven’s rings.

Our search of justice there begins.

Through the wall into a vast plain

That across existence extends

We unto a mass of souls came

Where brother was the only name.

So joyous was that gathering

Like a well governed family

Where all is loved and all is known

And where they are becomes there home.

Countless souls surrounded a scale

That between good and bad did sway.

After a time a soul in white

Emerged and from him outshined light

And bid two come upon the scale.

Then in an instant disappeared.

I know not how long we waited

For there time is disconnected.

In bands of dialectic talked

Or around the white plains did walk

The souls until being summoned,

Discussing good heaven’s purpose.

Like a firm rock the saintly soul

Was judge of justice inside souls;

Bid us come up upon the scale.

Both of our lights to his was pale

Like fires compared to a sun

Or the many next to the one.

We were brought through a white tunnel,

Its top convex like a funnel,

And inside it we moved as light.

In an instant at judgment lied.

Seeing two pathways in the sky;

For in that realm all was sky.

One bellow towards nothingnessl

One above: infiniteness.

And one by one the new dead went

To either relief or torment .

To my guide said “Where can this be?”

“It must lie somewhere between

Where we were and where we have been.”

That old saint to me then informed

“This is where soul’s judgment is born.

You did escape this trial once.

Now come at first as a right judge

To of the deceased make measure

Of their earthly deeds and pleasure

And actions either bad or good,

Whether heaven or hell they should

Take reward or punished always

Beside great god most powerful

Or next the devil weak and null.”

The thirst of knowledge surpassed fear,

I not a prophet or a seer

Asked the saint “The devil is weak?

The lost angel: of man’s boon reeks

His sin and death and own dark greed.

How can one be not such as him?”

For the mysteries of heav’n hid.

Fit to know, I, but not all.

“Lost angel? There was never fall!”

Said the soul, lofty but now true

Never again deny he knew.

“As good is god, the devil bad,

Both existing always: they have

Balanced and gave life its purpose.

If good was all then life worthless

Makes right an opinion of truth;

Right by wrong is not absolute.

For if right: the only option

Is done by man is there option?

Weak only for being true bad,

Yet what choice did the devil have.

You know the good is powerful.

Its opposite then must be null.

Doomed to do wrong knowing it wrong.

Being bad, rejoicing in wrong.”

And for a time that soul drifted

As too did our thoughts rise and shift.

Now before us the dead in throngs

Grew restless and their orders long.

For during no judgment was made.

Once we were alike to those men,

Though their bodies had been long dead,

Souls, but with an ether taint.

Are just as sin wrought as humans.

That heavenly muse grant me aid,

For through the realms my thoughts have changed,

Breaking the firmament lost point

And became weak in earthly voice.

Where, there, I found no pain to say

Happenings or events explain

Here words seem find no avail.

In each letter think that I fail.

Bringing condemnation on me

By my mistaken blasphemy ;

Yet, for myself I do not care,

But the sin to judge unfair

Can never be removed in whole,

And it sits heavy on my soul.

Once perfected I had right

But not quite so being alive.

Please forgive my then, you great Good


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