At first, a spectral haze against the darkness,
some apparition less of mist than hunger
made visible afflicts our evening. Stars
within it flicker, fettered by corruption
we sense but dimly. Terrible & ancient,
it murmurs in the dreams of chosen daughters.
Not it, but She … Chaos Incarnate’s daughter,
thought-spawned at random from that primal darkness
past memory or myth returns. What ancient
sorceries survive to wake such hunger
in times like ours? What spirit of corruption
endures to threaten these well-charted stars?
Minds blind to science, doubtful of the stars,
accustomed to dominion over daughters
& wives alike, defy this world’s corruption
with ignorance. No curse, but blessed darkness
obscuring every sin — or any hunger
for truth beyond the authorized & ancient.
Above us now, authority more ancient
than mankind manifests. As fading stars
surrender up their essence to a hunger
yet unsuspected by our science, daughters
of ignorance awake. Unveiled from darkness,
they lift their faces. Savor sweet corruption.
Arched like a crime-scene silhouette, corruption
assumes the form of female. Feral. Ancient
opener of all the ways to darkness,
Her mystery eclipses tarnished stars
we kept for wishing on. Perhaps our daughters
will walk in shadow gladly, holding hunger
inside them for a weapon. Nameless hunger
reshaped their spirits: should we fear corruption
in doing likewise? All of us are daughters
denied some truth or other; craving ancient
wisdom like the bitterness of stars
against Her tongue, expiring into darkness.
No dawn remains. O daughters called by ancient
hunger, know the truth of your corruption:
Devourer of Stars, perfected darkness.