Servants Of Possibility

Shame is the presence pressed against me
My weeping with hers
Pour yourself into this miracle
Our mania forbidding all forms of release, a tantalizing balm shared
Shame is the presence pressed against me
And pain is our most powerful magic
It is the fearsome initiate who tests the merit of death, then praises the mystified spiritual totality
A single vast gold air breathed out by beings

Scatter misfortune
To be cruel, you must be illuminated
March onward to the disappearance of being and destruction of form
I embrace you above all life

The curse of forever with its beasts of possibility
Preserved in their psycho-glory

They are seers of the cycle of reincarnate necessity

What is left to dream?
That which is not, I will make myself
We must bleed as payment for nature and reality misled
Life now issued by nothingness instead

Living while refusing life
A rite instigated by the theatre of essence

An invitation to destroy ourselves
All are allowed their secrets