New Occidental Poetry

Slain in the Spirit

After an entire life subsisting with fear  
Eternally my spirit rots into nothingness
Banished from this world of lies, I despair
Disdaining the whole creation and this mortal prison
Is it this eternity the prize of my human deeds,
or is it this my neverending doom for my sins?

I have the choice to make this my heaven,  or my hell.
The choice is ubiquitous. 
The fear, lies, and joy make me feel alive again, 
alive and present at that exact moment when it matters no more.                                     

I have slaved, I have feared, 
but I have broken through the shackles 
that fog my mind to realize that I have
also lived a life of affection.


My earth trembles over and over again,
And my soul cries under my scars of misery.
I see no crosses and I see no sign of life.
Why am I here if i am not resting for infinity, 
beyond the ages I wander?
Is it eternal this existence or just a point of entry
to another cosmos to slay the unborn creation?

-Francisco Albanese & Nora Virginia


Arthur Powell