Amid Broken Circles
By Nick Horton
Amid broken circles the desert cried breathlessly in waves of sand and fire, cavernous winds, and a tsunami of dirt. Drowning in a half-throttled shriek, everything everywhere dried into darkness. Flames of shadow licked at the sky: Golgotha gazed down; Heaven hesitated. Ιησούς! Adonai! Jerusalem! "King of the Jews?" Leaving them naked with laughter, "Magician! Where are your miracles, now?" Nazareth, forsaken by the tides of God, spoke oblivion and crossed the Rubicon. Protean shapes, wraiths from the underground, quaked the foundations of the houses: Roman stones fell upon their masters; Streets erupted in blood; beasts tore claws from their own fingers. Unending suffering? Salvation? Vanity all — the undulating soul lies still, wrecked by the barrenness of time. Xerxes was killed by his own guardians; youth is mocked by history. Zed, Alpha... Born again to die forever.