to seek God, a being or a divine or a nothingness, festers as a thought, or as a pursuit of a sovereign entity of present credit, allowance. disdain for limitations, sore chains of suffrage and rioting, the initial exhaustion, or apathy, have settled, along with the increasing tension of bonded arms amid natural beauty.
I did not move, but sat, like a stagnant creature stilled by a prey of fatigue. the languor of fighting, deeply concerned by an inability to know, facaded by a pride of resolve, perpetuated a wrestle unknown, categorized not by freedom. in opposition of the leveled eye, rather than a submission of seeking, creatively disillusioned not by 20th century, cyclical thought, the blooded breast beckoned defeat.
if bowing is to a formulated existence, rebellion I then choose-for what is of consequence anyway? (but suffocation.)
preliminary hunting does not hope to separate human from divine, as initially presumed, but to join two, perhaps opposing forces, into a colored juxtaposition of real understanding. so then, in the deconstruction of influence, attached to a figured or proposed value, I am seeking--perhaps for the first time--and not simply in existence, but in purpose.
and freedom, in the cause of understanding, sings harmonically, while the effect awaits anxiously, and perhaps never known.
1 comment:
Perhaps.
Of course, if you shoot the head you kill the ghoul.
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