Hidden In The Fog And Harvest Has Come
“O lamentable foolish subject! O Horrible dreadful
state!
How many demons reside in this but human breast?”
Me, who didn’t perceive the departure of “I”,
Who didn’t behold the horrific array
Now truly am beyond any help.
Seeding delusive hope,
Yet harvesting but mere ruin.
And harvest has come…
By linear degrees I beheld and realised
The infinite Abyss.
The seed - adolescent doubt within
Now grown enormously.
To seek for the thousandfold
Nature of this immense inner unlight.
And thus I leave this state…
Still engulfed by decay
To drape my naked soul,
To close my bleeding wounds.
Disciple of prophetic articulation,
Autonome – yet descendant of the forcast.
Seeker I am – nearly drowned in his quest.
Remain yet blinded, deafened… All I perceive is amorph
and abstract.
“O lamentable foolish subject! O Horrible dreadful
state!
Conquered by the grand foe within:
Formless and unknown ‘til thy revolt”
Me, who didn’t perceive the departure of “I”,
Who didn’t behold the horrific array
Now truly am beyond any help.
Seeding delusive hope,
Yet harvesting but mere ruin.
And harvest has come…
