If the afterlife meant despite being dead our eye still sees what our soul wants to see, I choose thee as my icon to see for eternity. Extracted from your place as the apple of my eye and dressed in your prismatic membrane I loath to adore thee. Dressed abundantly of blessed and futile tongues from sin spoke vainly . Naught, uttered of, as we fill that space with things we expect to see after submitting our vision filled of apathetic like feelings. Let us fill from within mine emerald eye the sanctity thou demand being encompassed by. For that garment of righteousness does suit the better than being imprisoned within only delusion of distant want. Because the eye is the window to the soul I only accept being forced to gaze into void and emptiness if my delusion cannot prove me less delusional. Stand before me and live beyond the green of mine eye. Stand before and dwell beyond the emerald dream. The end of the dream is that moment we’re enlightened by illumination of the thing our sins create for us. Self centered this ting can shame me. Leaving me unrewarded to stare into the dark of loneliness and oceans of being forgotten. Take this thing we share and enable us. For us this delusion is what you wanted. Because you’ve spoken those things my idea of what you are , is it not the same? Will I parish entombed of wretched things I imagined in vain? Will I parish or were you bounding yourself unto dominion of sin and sinner? will you be my master, or shall I subject myself into slavery unto sin? Hidden within this dream is the name thou gave me. The name I shall know you as. your name I stitch into the fabric of our being and let it shine throughout the reaches of this nothing.
To all bloggers I love; sometimes the literal existence of life is bewildering. Other times it can deliver us into a world we accept as our reality.
Gregory Garland
Memoirs Of The Ordinary 
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