The earth reverberates. I stand soley in its lamentation, living, breathing in its suffering and affliction of detachment- your tears are my own, your blood is in my veins, and your sight is mine as well. Our ears are one. I shake my head and sigh at the one futility I cannot let go...
Ο πόνος μου είναι ορυχείο.
This one sigh is felt by the earth and the earth alone. No man can recognize this tangent in me, nor can he discern...
In this way, the earth and I are kin.
There are ghosts in this dimension that observe such whims...If only I could reach out to them. They are intangible.
I run from the noise, I bury its destruction.
Though the sounds they shun are the screams of agony...
I run from their gluttonous laughs- laughs that devour the very souls of the ashamed.
They dismiss the echoes of grief. Their ears prick at the accents of malice, for which they hunger to be entertained.
I run from the noise. I bury its destruction.
In me.
They relish in it. It is the lavish golden calf.
What comes in the silence of forsaken
a healing peace, the angels' passion
a strain of paradise.
Of which you refuse to know.
O latent earth, the blood poured out upon you is poison
like the words of the belligerant...
Shall you fade away in the deafening silence
before you were ever known?
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