Strike the hate, erase the path that led you here. Take the pain, disgrace, disgust, revulsion, take it in and spit it back out like it was your last
Be confused, be lost, be in chaos. Overcome it all. Mark the path you bulldoze into your heart. Crush your house, throw stones at its rubble like you
were shooting cannons into hells abyss.
Grab the reaper and drag him into your shadows. His death he offers you will demand. You will take it and corrupt it. From the ashes and the dry bone,
you will shape the judgement of new life in your rebirth. Value its inner death. Cast aside your outer immortality. Grind the flesh into the soul.
Decree it noble and just.
That anger, that rage, make it hum like a well oiled machine. In its uncomfortable uneasiness you will find peace of purpose. You will be free of
Into the cage, trap fear in with you. You are not prisoner to your mortality, mortality is chained to you.
Know the loss, taste its hunger. May your tears drown your anguish. May your sorrow pale the light in its twilight.
From dead and dying worlds may your grave yield great harvests.
Let the bell toll and announce your deaths wedding. The bride grooms of death, meet your bride.
Betray nothing, your bond is your word. Your word is always your last and this is the season of winters spring. Speak not your vows. Listen to the hum
of the well oiled machine.
The joy of absurdity. The felicity of the final blow, stand back up. Loyal, true, the task finished, the eternal stone rolling.
The well oiled machine cycles on.
edit on 4 11 2015 by tadaman because: (no reason given)