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As he waits in blind shelter for a roof bereft of any proof his love can not offend the temporary joys of life that descend but recoil they must with gravities thrust from restraint of emotion within a brain under strain that demands he remain the same despite the distance his soul has tread his heart has shed every thread left as a pile of silk stained red as each night lays his head upon a soft bed be wed is said to himself and no one else once lost in a dream he can not find his way home a path hidden in faith has hope left where only the dead are said to be he has wandered in this long journey for eternity and still her soul can not be found he has gone up and down ever lost too him is the jewel of his crown worthy of the white gown his frown cast upon his face speaks of weary resolve still giving chase yet surrendering the haste knowing it brings only waste his feelings encased within a tomb beneath his chest has replaced the beating lungs that once gave rise to his breast it is best he seek not to find life here nor dare to shed a tear but having cast out every last fear has drawn his conscience clear with a confidence of devout acceptance that compassion can lend great blessing if he begins trusting in belief again a plan most grand unfolds a foreign land yet trod by his wounded paw upon which he will cling to grasp and claw a grounded man never raised from the depths of despair a final shred of her hair reminds him once more to care.


What is this story he is living if not an homage to things long gone a burning desire to resurrect forgotten memories that might remind him of whom he was once becoming before embarking on this mysterious journey?


I am myself by embracing every unclean thing about me including the virulent disease within my being, no longer clinging to religion nor family nor tradition nor institution nor loyalty to the state but abundantly breathing in everything as a free entity at liberty to become myself that is me without hate...to whom can I relate? My heart does palpitate, is it to late? Should I stop and mastrubate to penetrate the destiny of my fate. 


Perhaps there is an enemy unknown but I take them on willingly, accepting them into my core sense of being without hesitancy until I am complete in understanding any ignorance that breeds their hostility for knowledge brings stability even to the most chaotic of entities as wisdom ushers in equanimity.


This is the essence of love that I am becoming and it is sufficient for me to live as myself without explaining anything to anybody for any reason because proving love in argumentation betrays the potency of its power in action taking away the satisfaction of response without reaction, I find fulfillment in contentedly loving without proving anything. 


The strength of my might is not my own it is the home in which I rest given to me as memories in which I believe, making me trust in the ever present reality that never ceases to wake me from the dream and release me from any limiting thing that lies about who I am actually, this and this alone is my place of belonging the freedom of being me at liberty to exist without declaring anything that to others minds brings understanding for only another soul whose heart wishes to be made whole can agree that life is most full with a hand to hold that consoles your being and lets you live entirely surrendered to the mystery that is loving unconditionally. 


Love is not oppositional or confrontational it is understanding.


Now, I understand my purpose.


I am guilt free being me.


And by me I mean a humbly obedient entity receiving everything that loves light is sending. 


Here am I love, send me.


That I might see thee not for the shadow of the soul that tradition has trained me to believe you to be but the very substance of light that eradicates the haunting memories of whom I once thought you to be. 

—

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