The once beautiful fields of ripened fruit
Were concealed from the mortal eyes.
The once tranquil horizons of mountains and valleys
Were buried far beyond the edge of the earth.
A separation between God and humans occurred quickly.
Most were devastated and saw the act as a betrayal.
Those who did, became roaming souls within my realm.
God himself delivered them to me.
Something challenged the faith of God;
Something displeased him greatly.
The once superior civilization of humans,
So perfect in every aspect,
So detailed in their orientations,
Was reduced to an unappreciative state.
The human defiance gave birth to my burden.
I myself am no more than a small twist
Within God’s plan for the humans.
I serve only as an obstacle along his path.
I serve only to halt the progress.
My realm serves as an end path away from glory.
My palace was my acknowledgment.
My courtyard was my celebration.
My filtration was my enjoyment.
My collection of souls was my crown.
My palace overlooked all from its hilltop position.
Each sin added to the production of the city
And became the life source of the realm.
A flaw in one became a flaw in the overall system.
The city became my new farmland;
The essence for my sanity and stability.
I allowed nothing within my walls
That provided me with displeasure.
My palace became my only true ally
Within a place filled with deception and defiance.
The walls offered me silence;
The corridors offered me solitude.
The inlets allowed vision of all areas within my realm,
A vast empire of death and dismay,
Of which I thanked God for.
IV: ENCOURAGEMENT
With my realm capable of running itself,
I was allowed the freedom
To further test the capabilities of society.
I ventured back to the land of the sun,
Observing the emotions of civilization.
No longer did society dwell within God’s hands.
He unleashed the human mind
Like a captured beast desiring freedom from its chains.
The beast would either prosper under its own will,
Or fail miserably through its lack of guidance.
I am tasked to offer the humans the guidance
No longer granted by their creator.
From city to city, I traveled.
Whispers of my existence
Scoured the land well before my arrival.
Word spread of my existence
Through every passing caravan,
Through every roaming nomad,
Through every falling leaf.
However, proof was buried within my realm.
Only God knew of my true reality.
I was rumored and distorted within the tales.
I had been called a diseased, plague ridden horse
That trampled upon the weak.
I had been described as a horrific wind gust,
Which left only bones in its path.
After God punished my theft through the sacrifice of goats,
I secretly spared two in a far reached cave
To restore the species and reserve their existence.
Not only did I use the humans as my minions,
But I also sent the goats to every farmland, every town.
The human mind was eloquent in design.
The hearing of merely one word could trigger emotion.
As the mind struggled to translate what was heard,
The thought process paused to collect the information.
My name heard through the ears of the faithful
Proved to be devastating,
Eliciting a reaction of fear or anger.
Seldom did complete denial occur.
God foresaw the outcome prior to my sentence of sin.
He observed the downfall of human faith
Far before it had begun.
As a sign of disparagement,
He offered his beloved humans a test.
Those who passed remained with him;
Those who failed became a part of me.
With the crossroads well established,
And the awards and punishments for each apparent,
I journeyed across the lands with my temptations
With only one goal in mind;
To infect every human that crossed my path.
I left no hope or faith when I departed a village.
What I delivered was a choice to society;
Tempting them to either side was not difficult.
Some were already searching for me before I arrived.
Society remained strong and created faithful groups
In hopes to increase their availability to the heavens.
And thus society gave birth to religion.
An act of defiance to my cause, but to my acceptance,
As it gave me plenty of opportunity to inflict sin.
Religion would be battered like the shattered faith.
My first encounter with religion was amongst
A group of farmers on the edge of a modest town.
Mistaking me for a mere nomad, they accepted me.
Their words were that of praise,
But their actions told a different story.
The leader wore a delicate white robe
And preached the word of God.
I saw opportunity within him, as the word of God
Was not for any ground walking human to hear.
For a human to personify God to their level,
Was as much of a sin as the murderous act of wrath.
I pondered his reaction to my realm
As I was assured that I would see him there.
Still he preached to all who would offer their ear.
He spoke of another religious group.
I saw hesitation in his word choice;
I saw a redness glow against his skin.
Religion was a beautiful notion,
As long as one believes
What others intend for them to believe.
An opportunity presented itself to me.
One that to this day conjures itself
Within all forms of religion.
An opportunity to show the sheer vastness
And contamination of the mortal mind.
Faith was gifted by God in the beginning.
Faith was then challenged by God.
Faith was then destroyed by the humans.
He preached how the others were wrong in their idealism,
How their lessons had forsaken them
And changed the one true path to glory.
I could not conceal a grin any longer.
It was the essence of my task,
Spewing from the mouth of a preacher.
Judging others based on their interpretation.
Society would never be the same again.
That small inclination of hatred toward others
Would prove to be my largest companion.
Every opportunity; every crevice of doubt
Would be an advantage to my cause.
The preacher within that wooden shack,
Spreading religion, would serve as my first temptation.
With Lucifer studying the other group
And whispering sinful notions
Toward the farmers and how they worshipped,
The stones were beginning to shift.
What would a human do, in the name of God?
How far would they drift in their belief system?
And still the preacher preached on,
With words of purification and acceptance,
Of which he practiced neither.
I became fascinated by the preacher,
As everyone believed his words.
There was much to admire about him,
His stature and ability to control an audience.
I was curious to how far off the path he would venture.
There was instability with manmade religion.
I needed more clarification as my ambition was lofty.
The city became the dwelling for Lucifer and myself
As we observed the new religious aspirations of man.
The concept was clear;
Associating one’s self with others with the same idealism.
Confusion arose about what was being taught.
Lucifer and I often pondered the realism
Of the teachings and the basis for the subjects.
It was quite astonishing how meritless words
Presented in a well atoned speech
Could distort the very foundation of individual faith.
The sermons continued with every setting of the sun.
The tone of the preacher when speaking of others
Became blistered with hidden meanings.
Boredom crept to me like a snow drift
As I sat in the back of the congregation.
My task would be much easier
If I was allowed to unleash death upon all,
But alas that was not my choice.
Through the mindless dribble of words, I heard it.
Through the sea of confusion, I heard it.
An idealism leaking through the teeth of the preacher,
So distraught, so horrific that even I was ashamed.
His chosen words shattered the notion of peace
Amongst the common human race regardless.
He spoke of his God as a separate entity
From those who practiced differently.
The thought fed into the minds of all who heard the speech.
A separation occurred that night, one that would plague
The human civilization upon my alteration.
The limits of the separation were tested.
Two unique groups believing in one entity,
So demented that God would then become two entities.
Humans never ceased to astound me;
So much potential with sin.
The preacher continued with imprecise words of my life.
He began by forming my name over his tongue.
He spoke of me as a serpent,
Slithering through the long grass hunting for prey.
He spoke of my characteristics with features of a goat;
Horns atop my head, an elongated beard upon my chin.
He continued by depicting reddish, hardened skin.
A fallen angel, a demonic soul sent to punish the humans.
His depiction of my tale, my journey, was greeted
With much anticipation by all who heard his words.
Much like the misunderstanding of God,
I too was a fish in the sea of confusion.
I suppose I could have torn the spine from the preacher
So that everyone would know
The true meaning of my name.
With Lucifer observing the other group,
We were able to share similarities as well as differences
That could be exploited to augment the situation.
We summoned Mammon for greed and Levi for envy.
The combination would build hatred from within.
Greed would be adapted to the religion
In the forms of monetary demands and power.
Envy with regards to the size of the congregations.
A compounding effect built from sin
And led along by demons.
Each sun brought about new injections of sin.
Each moon brought about new visions of resentment
So detailed that each of the preachers spoke of them
And claimed them as words gifted from Heaven.
The preachers swore the visions were real
And that it was God whose words flowed through them.
But it was not God’s words of which he spoke;
They were mine.
The goal was simple;
To push the boundaries of human religion.
Hatred was nurtured which led to arguments.
Tempers were reaching an apex.
Arguing in the name of God was a despicable trait,
But I saw something more disastrous
In the form of a clinched fist.
Would the humans be so blinded,
That they would dare commit bloodshed?
I visited a preacher of my group to understand his reasoning.
I sat alongside him as he slept.
His troubled mind danced through visions of faith.
I eased his dreams so that my words would be heard.
He despised the other preacher for one reason,
That he did not share the same beliefs.
There was a natural corruption established
Within every mortal mind;
Well hidden beneath the traits necessary
To intertwine oneself within a society.
Without temptation, all would remain well.
All would see that of which they seek.
Ignorance when approached by temptation
Was a desired trait sought after,
But blinded within the eyes of man.
The preachers tempted their audience with words;
Whereas the audience desired the knowledge for faith.
A perfect relationship forged by a false prophet.
Seeking refuge from the congregation outside,
I found myself on the banks of a flowing river.
The sounds of the water desperately trying to overtake
The large boulders reminded me of my farmland
And the river I used to cleanse my tools.
I often travel back to my farm, if only in my mind.
I question its existence as a physical place.
I can imagine every aspect of the farm
From the height of the wheat
To the rolling hills of the surrounding lands.
I understood that the farm served as my staging ground,
To wait for God’s calling, but was the farm?
Was it another predetermined thought pattern
Much like the seven sins?
What is real may not be what is perceived by the mind.
I believed that I was living through sin.
I believed I was a carpenter, a blacksmith,
A tailor, but the reality was that I was none of them.
I did not try to contemplate the powers of God
Nor his ability when ruling over the land,
But my mind was plagued with questions,
Of which I would never find the answers.
If only I could find my farmland;
Seeing it would have relieved my confusion.
I was forced to wonder
If I had a real life prior to isolation in the cave.
Was the farm, goats, cottage
All a part of my manufactured destiny?
The river was soothing to watch.
The unpredictable nature of the water captured my soul
And eased the questions from my mind.
For a brief moment, I was not who I was.
For a brief moment, sin did not exist.
For a brief moment, I was not a servant.
I was merely a farmer tending to his livestock,
Observing a storm rolling over the valley.
The clash of the darkened, blue sky
Against the swaying green grass was mesmerizing.
The cool, crisp breeze carried an aroma of wheat
And forced the blades of grass to dance.
The storm crept over the mountain range
The blackened clouds suffocated the crops.
The scent of depression stole the aroma.
I imagined God pushing the storm forward.
The sun no longer provided warmth and stability.
In its place were tormented, swirling clouds
Pulling weak rooted vegetation from the ground.
My eyes swelled with fear as a funneling cloud
Ripped through my wheat field destroying every stalk,
Carving the land until every seed was tossed aside.
Lightning danced across the sky
Providing brief moments of light.
Through my shielded eyes I saw the cloud-beast,
Spiraling and fervent by untouched land.
I could do nothing but mourn the devastation of the vision.
The act of remembering served as my downfall.
I had ventured to the farm too many times.
A distraction along my own path of God,
A questioning of faith.
I became resentful of God by envisioning my farm.
I became disrespectful of God by questioning realism.
For that I was punished.
My eyes bore witness to the destruction
Of everything that I held dear.
The sky rotated with vengeance,
And the ground trembled beneath me.
My cottage shook uncontrollably
As the walls splintered and became unfastened.
The very foundation of the cottage buckled.
I sat alone in a valley of dirt.
Everything was gone.
My only soothing vision; all gone.
I felt my soul deteriorating.
I struggled to stay afloat even as the sun peaked.
God had given me an answer.
He had taken everything.
My eyes swelled with tears.
Without a place to visit, without a thought to conceive,
I would never envision my farmland again.
The vision faded against the current of the river.
***
Through my eyes,
I have seen faith of one become that of many.
Through my ears,
I have heard God’s tale twisted and confused.
All believed by those who practiced the same.
I have observed good souls bend their chosen fates
By merely stopping and listening.
Curiosity, although not a sin,
Would serve as the greatest temptation.
I too was curious about the element of anger
And its influence upon religion and actions.
The clinched fist, a single gesture of defiance.
Could religion be tainted to the edge of misconception,
Where two visions become so varied in description
That those who follow, view difference as a threat?
Each night we visited the preachers;
The Harvester Page 8