The Restless Mills

Earth's hell was a pit of fuming furnaces

Firing cauldrons of blood

Moving monstrous wheels

Where the air was stale from foul belief

In a shadow, so faint - yet salaciously desired

... to be that of god... to reach into these naked depths

And shaped in soot... a silhouette

Of outstretched arms and torso

At a giant cross...

A desperate view onto the restless mills

That grind... grind... grind...

Jahwe, you were the breeder of a pest cocoon

And whatever your gift was -

Dreadful were the mills that crushed it.