Stars Afire
The wind takes time to caress her children,
Lying upon the ground while their liberators take to the heavens.
No grave, only fire.
No shroud, not even cloud,
For the sky itself is burning.
Light of sun and moon across space and time.
Tears are but light, but dark is all Creation.
A million banners planted upon ten-thousand worlds.
Billions dead, crushed by tens of millions of feet.
The tyrant's herald leaves none untouched.
Ships drift through the dark like floating coffins.
Nearly-dead flee the living, who bring death themselves.
The stars are wailing, but neither scream nor song is heard in void.
Lamentations are heard only upon land.
As the ways of old reach their coda.
Whereto now, ask the warriors of Dune?
Whose ears shall hear the words of Mua'Dib?
Who shall feel the touch of our swords, the caress of our spears?
Who shall taste that which we knew before the Messiah's coming?
Whereto now, in jihad?
The stars answer.
The ships sail stygian waves.
The universe turns.
The universe weeps.
And all know Damnation's name.
Paul.