Does it befit a world to be in an Auschwitz of souls?
Would you want to settle in a dystopia, where belief
is founded on the bedlam of truth? You can be the water
of your soul or its lunacy? But I am never going to
vouch for it! It is not even my bedlamp, lit up in
my sleep! I know who is the one who is constantly
trying to eat up my feet! I just decide when I must walk,
and when I should talk. Even my silence was my ambition,
if you can call selflessness an ambition! The surf is not
my sofa, even if it rises and ebbs at another’s beckoning!
I know that a whisper is louder than all the din on the planet;
I assure you it would be better if salvation came in
a spaceship that took us away from these disgusting ages,
I shouldn’t want to lock the door, when I threw my key
into a void that should shut the door or open it to consequence.
All these events are not of my making! I am just a volume that
cannot be judged by its cover. The devil has known that,
And now the deep sea should know that? Even my ambivalence should
not be made circumspect, and make you believe in your pithy resolutions.
I am a breakpoint and a deuce. There can be no imposed victory!
Perceval, who was the mountain that pierced the valley,
resolutely did not ask the Fisher King the question,
not because he forgot to ask it! He was determined not to
make the Piscean febrile land an oasis. And a hungry waiting age
of Cancer/ Aquarius had already wounded the Fisher King
in his thigh. There was no healing. Perceval was still resolute,
even when they paraded John the Baptist’s head. Perceval
did not want one water for another. But would it resolve the blistering
problem, If I now ask the eternal treachery (PSP), the question:
Do you have a conscience? Do you deserve my forgiveness?
I know my determined answer to that!
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