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TYphoon's Final Movement

BY Kassidy Siebert

 

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            only at

           the beginning

     of it all was there ever piece

      The quiet was unsettling.

   Unsettling as the writhing snake

    beneath the earth . Silent but

       coiling and convulsing

          with rage waiting

         waiting to strike into

          an explosive venomous fit.

            How boring. That brief moment

              of solidified unity

                 where the mortal world

                      stood united

                        not a steaming rise of conflict that

                            covered the surface of the miserable planet.

                                 It almost made me envy that

                                  void of utter chaos back before

​

                                 Where neither Gaea  stood, nor Nyx .

                               Neither titans  nor any mortal beings.

                             Just an empty expanse

                          before the first star glittered a

                        shimmering tear to pour on the marble

                          palaces of Olympus

​

                         That time of global reconciliation

                             was when only one man stood

                           fresh

                         still a clay figure  not even fully realized,

                  not even dry. Seconds before being molded, being

              created at that moments no conflict existed, everything

             was clear - the Olympians  themselves held their breaths.

           Their petty vendettas vanquished for that

              moment to watch the birth

               of a mistake.

                 A population of viral, insubordinate

                  monsters, a terrible parasite

                   and my perfect victims, my perfect

                    playground, my perfect little experiment.

​

                     Millenia upon millenia,

                    that dreadful second of peace still haunts my conscience.

                 It still torments the lost mortals with the idea that they

             could collectively find that

              moment and replicate it into their present.

            Finding peace - gave them a distraction - 

              whilst I have been experimenting to find the perfect recipe.

​

                      Curious how those worms squabble

                        desperate for direction.

​

                          Tragedy upon tragedy.

                             Determined they can explain their coming to be

                                like watching the moon run tirelessly around the earth.

                                   Them thinking past what they know

                                        is like observing the earth's spinning,

                                         pitiful and pointless.

​

                                        Messing with such pathetic specimens

                                      seems strongly, subjectively slander,

                                    suspicious perhaps me sending gifts of

                             sweet chaos into their societies.

                           Doing so sustains my life, gives me purpose.

                           Subtly though, I savor their self destructive manner…

                             Actually, I revel in it.

​

                                I’m cooking a storm of paranoia and madness.

                                 Trial after trial I’m perfecting it.

                                   Creating the faultless combination of horrors

                                     that will cause your world to cave and crumble.

​

                                         Outstanding though, the results of my

                                           last present to their world.

                                             It created a period of utmost confusion

                                               wild panic

                                                and thoughtless action.

​

                                                 Overdeveloped monkeys scurrying around

                                               shouting, disagreeing, and relying on their

                                            “representation”.

                                         Foolish little ones

                                    strapping cloths to their faces,

                                praying to remain safe,

                             storing up supplies,

                          praying to remain safe,

                            avoiding each other,

                              praying to remain safe.

                                 Who are they praying to?

                                They don’t even know.

​

                              The Olympians are long past.

                         Without their “loyal” subjects they've lost strength.

                   Only I remain because I feed off their fear

                     and crippling greed.

​

                      My plan: has been orchestrated,

                    a compositional,

                  masterpiece.

                They had no choice but to turn

                  against each other,

                    against themselves,

                  against their world.

​

            Now the storm has brewed

           grew

         stewed

       spewed

        and exploded on the queue

​

         For, this is what I do.

           I slither, hither to your world;

             hiss and snipe

                then chaos ensues.

​

           I’m that unsettling silent snake coiling beneath your feet

      and consider this, my final act for the show is almost over.

        My venom has infiltrated and spread.

           Soon only discord exists.

              And you’ll never have seen it coming

                  locked up in your abodes.

                    “Protecting” “guarding” “preventing”

                       Communities with no one on the streets.

                          I have no opposition, so I spread the world thin

                           in disarray.

                         The final movement of my

                     flawless piece of anarchy plays.

                  It will continue playing.

                My symphony of madness

            and its eternal reign

         The End.

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  Typhon: Giant monstrous serpent, the most dangerous creature in Greek Mythology he is the god of chaos.

  Python: A serpent creature from Greek mythology (son of Typhon) who was slaughtered by Apollo.

  Gaea: one of the first primordial deities in Greek mythology - personifies earth (basically mother nature).

  Nyx: Greek goddess of the night.

  Titans: Deities in Greek mythology that preceded the Olympians (sons and daughters of Uranus and 

Gaea).

  Olympus: the home of the olympians (Greek mythology).

  Clay figure: Greek mythology states that man was created by the titan of fire Prometheus who created humanity out of clay.

  Olympians: Were twelve of the major deities that ancient Greeks believed in. (Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Demeter, Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Ares, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, Hermes and either Hestia or Dionysus.)

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