Sunday, May 15, 2016
I was the thirst. Living as thirst; dried up, lonely and withered lust.
What a fool, what a wasted life; body alone; piss, vomit, bile, my ruin.
A brutal display to my ignorance of true value, no means to redemption.
Pleading to a taunting flicker, my contemptible tears; this betrayal
of a true self. This wretch (false self) who lived as I! Safe to predict
they knew her too well. Casting shame; I bled shame, anguish, now fatal?
What horrific calamity is this? A pathetic display of D.O.A, that final fatal
sip. Pupils? Gone, I don’t see; and the slow burn to boil cold blood. That lust,
give me more, waking sleep, apathy, and unearned nirvana. Poor fools predict
this came at no cost. The steep sum of my errors: an irrefutable ruin
everlasting. A mockery of value and principle; long lost, now only betrayal.
Crane and wolf, Snap jaws, take my idiot head, I expect no redemption.
With tremulous phantom limbs, shriek and sing for your redemption.
Vanishing, that flickering light, perhaps galaxies, or only the fatal
toxins between us? I couldn’t know. My thirst! My Bounty! My betrayal.
Of god, of truth and all mankind, I had no reverence, no thought, only lust
for alternate reality, and different realm; Now I’ve found it, fallen to ruin.
Sixteen years of atrocities, turning away in conceit. What did you predict?
Will the feeble cerebral exercise prove inadequate in what they predict?
Small, simple creature; the errors are numberless, that’s not redemption.
Living with cognizance, truth and forgiveness. Not here, not now, in ruin.
I wish I could pity you, truly I do. To be mortal is a brittle wing, so fatal.
Not only for you, but all mankind and kin. You met death, life full of lust
so valued. You have cheated yourself out of nirvana too soon with betrayal.
What mockery you made of your values, did you ignore, could you predict
the consequences, that would inevitably come from an insatiable lust?
Give you more. A poke in the arm or the neck, now you seek redemption!
On your way down, you knew those poisons you consumed were fatal!
You knew you were rushing to the door, a gateway to only your ruin.
The hypocrisy, inconsistency and fascism you found in church; is a ruin
made of steeples and shame. It does not belong to you. Another betrayal,
that one; to the Gods. Follow simple universal truths, then your fatal
mortality, your innate humanity, is nothing to fear. You can safely predict
living in those truths, the soul recognition truth, is the way to redemption.
You lack nothing, whole and complete, you are! An imaginary need; lust.
Since conception your condition was fatal, a finite mortality. If your ruin
is what you desire, it will wait. Lust for truth and you will find no betrayal.
Only through this death; I predict the magnificent possibility of redemption.
Mary Catherine, Cowardice Queen