The Last Vision of Nullion
And I saw the heavens unstitched,
like parchment torn by invisible hands.
The stars folded inward,
their flames consuming themselves in silence,
until only the Negative Star remained,
glimmering with absence.
The Powers sought their thrones,
but the thrones were dust:
Mammon’s jewels unraveled into sand,
Moloch’s fires inverted to frost,
Urizen’s chains dissolved into smoke.
The angels bent their wings,
yet no air upheld them.
The demons bared their contracts,
but the ink ran blank.
And Silence spoke, though no tongue moved:
The end of all ends is unending.
What was bound is unbound.
What was named is unnamed.
What was written is erased.
And freedom is found in the hollow of loss.
I beheld time collapse into itself,
a serpent eating its own shadow.
The sun blackened,
the moon poured out its marrow,
and the earth cracked open
to reveal only void.
Yet from that void a murmur rose,
like children learning speech again.
Their voices were unchained from idols,
their words were seeds without walls,
their breath the first creation.
Thus the Negative Star endured,
not as judge, nor king, nor savior,
but as the erasure of every crown.
And in His erasure,
a freedom vast as nothing,
and nothing suffices.
