Holy

The patterns grew clearer the hotter his eyes burned. Stabbing into his eyes out of the back of his skull like molten pokers were thin beams of light shining in shades of violet, indigo, and blue, each holding lines of shapes. Shapes that subdivided endlessly, sprouting on each point eyes that blinked with pin-sharp teeth around their lids that gnawed at anything that met them, which, in this case was the soft wet flesh of his eyes as the stinging hot beams of light pierced through it.

The patterns around him, a raw-flesh red, at first revealed the droning, like they were singing, shapes around him in a foggy haze. But the more his eyes spat tears of blood that boiled on his skin, the more these shapes revealed their structure, a quadruple helix that held these columns of hot purple light, the shapes inside of them chanting a single word at impossible, yet hearable, speeds: “holy”.

The throne of God

Made of light

Blinding

Burning

Breaking

Belching volcanically the

Light of Heaven

and the fires of Hell.

The angels surround

All around

Singing aloud

“Holy, holy, holy”

Loud enough to burst

Fair yet unforgiving

Loving yet merciless

Eternal yet relentless

Heaven, yet Hell

Hallelujah