Incomplete resurrection of my soul. Arisen and yet it firmly lies on the sand, washed upon by salty water. Life, insight and yet feels annihilated. Mortal thoughts of eternity, never-ending struggle of a non-beginning. This realm of nevermore, beyond all good, beyond all evil, a puzzle of a million hermaphrodite pieces of mitotic multiplication.
Alas, I am the key bearer, or so they said.
Improvisation of calculation. A battle of peace, a war of love, mathematically randomized. Perpendicular thoughts in horizontal crevasses, fallen angels. Aesthetically ugly, distasteful my beautiful soul is. I stand corrected once again, I stand alone and yet I am not there either. Parachuting in a sea of parasitic feelings, I suffice and I alleviate the pain, the hurt, the love.
In the dominion of my microcosm I feel so lost, so confused. I try to accentuate what was once good, what I thought was good. I try to stand tall in my hour of falling. I gape upon the sublimity of my inadequacy and before all that matters I confess my guilt. I have eternally and ceaselessly loved you. Before I knew you, before you were born, before I was born. Is this my punishment? Partial revivification of my soul? Well what is the crime, what is the charge my lord?
Oxymoron. I shall not suffocate before this travesty of a trial. Who am I to judge me? I will stand tall and will endure. The guilt is not mine, the crime is not mine. This judgment shall not be passed upon me. Removed be burden from my soul. Be gone. The water is fresh, the soul revives. My love will win the chalice. My darkened eyes shall again blaze. Your hands will be my guide. Oh loveliest of lovelies, evermore I shall wait. And come if you will, I will rejoice, the partial death will forever perish, and my soul will rise, complete, beautiful and unique. Resurrected.
