Golden Scapegoat's Mutterings

5B Hate and the void devoured the sinner. He was buried in the four corners of the world. Gigantic rock mountains lost their weight, and became dark clouds in the sky. The world is already upside down: Future is past, letters become curses, bricks that absorbed water reborn into soft earth. The bird knows not what it sings, its only understanding in its own throat. In this silent world of creation, all life is revived. 6B Before it matured, the lamb could talk to the dead. Not music, not letters — black iron and charcoal were used to perform the seance. The branding iron glowed red-hot in the furnace, its fuel being the past of the dead. On the lamb's flawless skin, it wanted to leave a mark that denoted the shepherd's property. The scar was its shadow cast upon time. From then on, the lamb could no longer commune with the dead. 7B Cutting open the myrrh tree's bark, people harvest its valuable spices to embalm the bodies of the deceased. Monoliths melted, sulfur rising, the earth has also been roasted into asphalt — those who wish to destroy all harvest heavenly fire from graves. The eternal tree rages with fire, its wooden shards shattered into stars. Life is resurrected, perishes, and then returns once again in this primordial blaze. The sky is a slab of lapis lazuli — before it was solidified, the lands once hurled it high into the air.