In the Belly of the Beast

In the Belly of the Beast
by Belinda van Rensburg

In nineteen ninety-three or two
I had a vision which I'd like to share with you -
It was so clear; as bright as day,
Etched deep into my mind to stay.

I found myself in a cathedral
Old and certainly ancestral,
Very clean; in good repair,
But without trappings anywhere.

All by myself in a large room
Surrounded by gray walls and gloom;
Ancient, eerie, cold and dark,
Uninhabited and stark.

Facing a wall four stories high -
A tower reaching to the sky;
Set in relief a figure tall
For ages in the granite wall.

His face was twisted with pure hatred;
Motionless and still he waited
With eyes glowing red as coals
To feed 'pon lost and wayward souls.

I followed this doomed creature's stare
And noticed people floating there
High against the ancient ceiling;
Struggling; writhing; crying; squealing.

Their struggles were of no avail
As terrified they thrashed and flailed;
Still helplessly they kept on drifting
Whilst the creature's eyes kept shifting.

The beast was ready; more than eager
Though at first the meal was meager;
His lips were parted; they slipped through
Receiving that which was their due.

The solid rock became transparent
And it was quite clear; apparent
That the ones who had been swallowed
Inside the creature's belly wallowed.

Faster, ever faster still
More souls came floating down until
The beast started to come alive
Since it was on their sins he thrived.

Fear-filled eyes stared back at me
And it was very sad to see
Souls which had been trapped this way -
But there they were and had to stay.

The beast came loose eventually -
Out of the wall he was set free;
Free to maim, kill and destroy
Something in which he finds much joy.

For many years I prayed and wondered -
About this strange vision I pondered;
What exactly did it mean,
And can from it some truth I glean?

It seems to me and others too
The key phrases may well be two;
Ancient 'Church' in good repair
Feeding the beast which hides in there.

© 2009
 
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