ayeshazahyd

the seraph

In Uncategorized on August 7, 2010 at 4:49 am

The seraph wind their way to the tunnel and sleep there for a while. My gentle ones, they whisper in their dreams. They dream of faraway lands, of gold and of sand that burns. They dream of clouds above the sky and far from the pains they must go through. They dream of burning in the sun, and of riches in the desert.

The seraph are not always snakes, you realize. They are angels, three-headed beings with a wingspan greater than you can imagine. The world would die in its sleep if the seraph were to leave the cave and come out in the sands of the Sahara. Touch the sky with the tips of their tails and awaken the beasts in the ocean.

The world would not exist anymore because the seraph are greater than what the world is. What they are, is. What they say, is. What they do, is. What the world is, says and does, is inferior.

As they wake from their slumber, the gentle ones stir, too.

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