[Writing Sketches] for the unfinished novel "The Sound Of Silence" by Philip Haggard Berry

Silence and Calm

(The Angel Of Death)

Statue: Artist and Date not currently unknown.

 

Notes / sketches for the unfinished novel 

"The Sound of Silence" 

by Philip Haggard Berry

Imagine yourself in a vast cathedral at night, the sky is overcast with heavy gray clouds. there is no moon nor stars above, only inky \ blackness

then, alone in this vast cavern of a cathedral you light a tiny loan match, which enflames a tiny candle.

The yellow flame flickers in the cool drafts of the vast dark and deep cathedral

]and such is the souls of a man, a tiny flickering flame in a vast cyclopean architecture rising to a God so old that time does not even exist because how can one describe the span of time that God created himself and then the universe and then the earth and then man.

No man can describe such a span of time, and so time become a useless term.

but as for we, the fallen, how many times have we prostrated ourselves before our ultimate master, seeking out the holes in his creation like black smoke seeks the escape from a burning building.

and how many of us fallen have found our flickering flame inside the unborn human fetus.

Then we grow up, we grow old, we die, and some of us with no idea of what we truly are.

Then back to the dark place, back to the Kingdome of the Fallen.

Gods is love is light is order is one-ness, the multiplying patterns recede and become one single point.

Lucifer is hate and dark and chaos and the ultimate individuation, the individual surviving its death. here the multiplying patterns

grow even more complicated into a chaotic pattern of insanity, the dream, the eternal dream without end.

removed from the order and the love and the light of God.

And some of us fell, so very long ago, back when it all began, wee in our pride thought ourselves to be "AS GOD" and in our pride we failed.

in our pride we warred against 2 thirds of heavens host, and we failed and were cast down into the pit,

the eternal death, dead but dreaming, alone among a multitude of individuals, 

DEATH'S DREAM KINGDOMS.

And, however many times I turn to smoke and find my way back through the cracks in temporal human reality,

and insinuate myself into the unborn fetus, and become human, however many times through the human ages I do this,

I still die, and I still find myself in this ice glass prison of an eternal dream which has become 

an eternal nightmare.