The monster cries out, resonating
every chord of its being.
The silence gets louder without when the cries are defeaning within.
For resonance is singularity - the point where meaning breaks
a sizeless, shapeless, timeless nemesis.
Constant, unending, unhealing, unhealed.
The monster yells
" I rip my own flesh, with my own teeth,
my nails dig deep to the bone.
In hope my suffering is tantamount
to my vicious venom-barbed throne"
The discord of fate be paralleled by
the discord of pain.
Will two grant tolerance
for the unbearability of one?
Pain! Pain! Oh god-awesome pain!
Proof of the living and bane of the dead!
The monster cries
"Pain, oh Pain! Grant me perspective(as only you can).
Come now, pull me away.
Tear out my heart,
and every other part, rid me the scars of the bygone day"
Death? Death is nothing; not a thousand times one!
A tarnished soul even, may be purified.
Life after life, like a diamond in the rough,
etching one layer at a time.
But what of the stone that was parted and cut - wrenched disjoint,
forever lost?
Where is Nirvana? Or the hope of peace?
A sliver of sunshine for the broken soul?
What was once half full, perhaps, or half empty;
naught now but the shards of a shattered bowl.
