The land at the Edge of the World

20 Jul

  Beyond the highest mountains,

Before the greatest sea,

Lay a land where the sun goes to slumber each night
The hills are ever awash with his red light.
Here, in the oldest forests, legs of giants rise to leafy boughs, laden heavy with golden fruit.
The garden of Hesperides, where the voices of nymphs are carried on the mists.
On craggy peaks, Atlas, the giant, holds up the swirling skies.
Clouds fall to Earth like waves on a shore, flooding the valleys with fog
This realm, caught between niether here nor there,
Alongside hither and thither,
A city at the edge of the world,

Enthroned by the clouds.
Her pastel houses are arrayed on the rolling hills, as if waiting to be played as pieces in some great game.
Stacked and thrown together, 

Brush strokes on a verdant canvas,
Towers clad in fine coats of rose, violet, turquoise.
Dwellings in bizarre shades of yellow, orange, beige, and green.
They gleam in their colors, or fade as the fickle skies roll across the world. 
In the centre, pyramids stab upwards, towers thrown up like spears.
Their illuminated halls make a mockery of the starry night.
They all creak under the weight of the falling sky. 
Groaning, they lose rocks and debris. 
They shift frantically, spinning and whirring, 

a clockwork survival. 

They avoid buckling under the pressing heavens, 

who would with ease send them tumbling down in their hubris. 
In these cloistered halls, and narrow stairs,

come visitors in their multitudes.
To sell their souls to naked Ambition, 

who lay waiting for them on the highest floor. 
On her satin pillow, 

her translucent silks blow across her ivory skin.

Her ruby lips and dark hair. 

Her eyes heavy with lust.
The suitors come, each willing to give their life for her false affections. 
Their whining advances join the chorus of her baying hounds. 
For men and dogs, each new treat is worth a lifetime of servitude. 
But under these palaces of idolatry, is a realm all of its own.
throngs of the common people, who clamor joyfully, faces beaming.
The world is theirs, they claim, 

and daily they awake, greeting the new day.
Aimless, free of care, Such is their elation 

as they join each other, arms outstretched.
They are transfixed, in reverie, suddenly, as under a column of light, an acrobat dances with gravity.
Her skin is dark, her muscles taught, and her panther eyes glow. 

She twists and swings,

She contorts and spins,

She bows, applause ripple over the hills. 
Music seizes the people, passion grabs them in their chest, 

their feet go flying across the ground. 
Wild flowers spring up at each footfall. 
Floral scents of red, purple, and yellow 

mingle with the heady passions of the dancers.
Soon they are falling upon each other.
their silks falling away and their warm, tired, bodies begin wrapping tightly together. 
The pastures are full of their movements and cries. 
Pleasure and delight roll amidst the flowers, as the golden sun descends.
The lanterns start to glow, flickering across the walls. 
The fireflies light up in a humming green.
The crickets call to welcome the balmy night, 

who comes chasing on the heels of fleeing day.
Time stands still. 

As if the world was taking a breath. 
Dusk, the land begins to fall upwards into the sky.
The towers crane their necks,

The trees fluff out their golden feathers,

The spirits of the land seep from the soil and begin their ascent.
Sky jellyfish, in splashes of phosphorus, streak upwards across the sky, their gentle forms billowing behind them. 
giant butterflies rise softly, their dust falling in sheets from their shimmering wings.
Metallic birds in silver, gold, and platinum flash across the sky, their songs ringing out in mercurial tones.
In the onset of a midsummer night, 

the hazy, dimming sun glows in its magnitude.

Colors are released: garish purple, bold orange, tingling red, and docile pink. 
A symphony of colors flickers across the painted skies,
The land drips upwards, raining an inverted downpour into the heavens.
The sea cascades off of the highest cliffs, 

an impossible waterfall, 

Tumbling and roaring,

Resounding down to chasm-depths, 

falling to nowhere. 
And in the dull arboreal warmth, 

the sun sets upon the edge of the world.

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