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Time flows and time grows
into a thousand meanderings of celestial intent
In the book of the universe each sentence is written
every destiny foretold, every path explored
yet there is a spark of something
in these fragile human souls
that pulls
calls
beckons
and when I pull you from Hell
it grows
The lost languages of the world
whisper to me as I look at the night sky
But it is staring into your eyes
that I find the greatest mystery
of a man baptized in fire and pain
a hunter of demons and darkness
yet your soul shines as you refuse
as you defy angels and chose the world
Dean Winchester, they fear you
demons and monsters speak your name
with anger on their tongue
and hatred in their hearts
yet the darkest words you save for yourself
I have fallen the angels whisper
but it is the touch of you that corrupts
the dark letters, that ignite the fire
as I tear apart the pages
the book of the universe is not for me or you
I yearn to be consumed
not by the hunt in the night,
by creatures that crave blood and tears
No, my hunger is for you
I have seen rivers be born and oceans rise
but your love is boundless
My grace thrums underneath my skin
like a shield
how I long to shatter it
to meld
to truly understand free will
to lay myself down
at the altar of you and be consumed
He comes into being and burns like the sun
tears open new worlds,
as our world is torn apart.
Each page is written and turned, God says
it should settle within
this eldritch beast
But I'm a kintsugi with veins of love,
you've changed me, Dean and
this crucible of divinity
this vessel of humanity, he is our son
I speak the truth and await my end,
this holy burning of 'I love you'
A being, this Empty wrought in despair
Time flows and time grows and
this suspension
speaks of galaxies groaning
as stardust collides
then
a spark,
a longing that grows
until it crashes against me
with 'Cas, Cas, Cas'
The scent of gunpowder, ancient words,
it surrounds you in the abyss and
I understand the meaning of 'let it go'
I let go
There is an intricacy, a mystery to the world
of God at last, turning mundane
of humanity being profane
yet
Time flows and time grows
into a thousand meanderings of human intent
In the story of our lives each page is unwritten
every destiny awaits, every path beckons
and there is a spark of something
in knowing this
that lingers
calls
sings
we're done and there is peace
and oh, that peace, it grows