Lamentation From Within A Cynical Heart

Within the fabric of deceit, I’m reminded of why I question my makers purpose. The nature of me being, and this inevitable escape from how being’s defined. Occasion after occasion, I imagine our dark mistress reaching to caress my presence while she insists I hear her say I’m far less than adored. I question how being defined as a tool of fabrication this legacy is. For the father of lies I’m device every lying tongue seeks when searching refuge from themselves. though within our heart I’m a misrepresentation to those using the same device to administer deliverance unto their salvation. Unto our mistress I’m a device for her sins increase. Unto salvation, I fear this thing’s a thing renounced because this thing’s despised. Thus! I lament within me while enduring the storm’s threshold. Assuming her gesture contradict  her words. Unto the first perhaps I will always be our righteousness presence. For this thing selfsame decor. For the deviant, perhaps I am selfsame corruption unto wicked things. From her gesture  a  sinner I am, tempted of sins devices. A gate-keeper between vexation and realization of what our purpose is as defined. Let the truth of vanity hide behind the charade of peace no longer. Vain deceit stains humanity creating opportunity of being defined less than acceptable. A delusion dictated from desperate, frightened dictators. Mass of fabricated promises separated as a result of fault. The covenant seeks  the prince of peace but reject classless, race-less and sexless communist societies. They live behind the fantasy appearance they create for themselves while denying the steadfast standards their dictators created. Nearing the end of my fantasy I ask what this mistress gains from this many levels of manipulation. Is the benefit the same for all delusional participants of this existence? Perhaps her caress is enough to defy the things I fear? Will she conquer the cynicism of a faithful heart?

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The Forge Of Love’s Everlasting Sin

From one place Humanity’s foundation support life for each living soul. From that same place, one image of love’s created in-spite of the things needed of everyone. Like the two-edged sword, forged in the heat of desire romance and the romantic exist within the same standards of being infatuated of humanity. One being the inheritor of the one legacy while all others parallel. Because I’m not Christ but society peers on as his body, my action as a lover shall defy the body, and justifying the standards of true romance as stipulated by black-smiths of romance. Because the seed of human will’s sewn long before this love crafts perfection we inherit sin and taste the sight of lovers like adversary battling for favor of the field. Because of the already existing evidence of my legacy I offer myself for your indulgence  Because I’m a sinner I must accept your decision as just reward for a sinner. If that be God‘s will, we shall be as the sword to the body. If I’m denied the act of being your want then I stand smitten because of my imperfection. From everlasting to everlasting this blade this song and this act be empowered. This selfsame day man shall recognize the epitome of his demeanor. Without perfection man shall be cast aside as scrap. Because our inhibitions tempered with the hammer, our unity stands as everlasting sin. Sin against sinner, or sinner rewarded for sin. From the maker’s hand our foundation’s obscured. With our heart we find our maker’s will and rediscover our need of others. the vow of a woman promises a man he’ll never fall beneath the veil of his darkest sin. For love we stand united to conquer those things devised for our failure. Divided I’m only an image ideal to the author.

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The Eve of Salvation.

In the beginning , nearly no-one foreseen the infatuation and want manifesting for us. Not in the same instant, but during evolution of our sins, a culture developed. From the dexterous hand of a musician, we must believe the seed of our desires were sewn within us. Because without balance we are not symmetrical. Without accord, we ar not harmonized with the things we adore. We do not adore those things without inspiration. We want  nought without encouragement. Like Eve unto Adam, many believe in destined romance. Like each step of an octave our woes are pre-ordained. From e-string to e-string of a guitar todays musician has more influence for their own device than the lyrist of any renaissance. From the same diatonic time line, lovers posses many infatuations. Like any dire, enchanted garden, infatuation is more than a biased obsession. For the mediators of desire for nothing, seduction composed from the neck of a guitar, allows opportunity for activation of any lovers device. Inheriting both land and lovers. Women are an association to the land of mans’ inheritance, according to some Biblical  tales. Now, salvation unites lovers because they believe similar beliefs. Salvation was something rewarded for repentance of sin, and transgressions of sinners. Because of our domesticated society lovers might never live their emerald dream, or play those alluring masterpieces. Thus! Humanity shall stand smitten with a derision stronger than a thousand swords. We stand affronted by the court of cliché, severed from the fountain and the crystal chalice. Waiting, like sorcerers after casting a spell for manifestation of our want. Mistress, plunge in thy dagger! For our sins, our suffering is not greater than our want. Let us be as a pestilence to non-believers. If they suffer nought for our sins then let them suffer because of their own device. Let us believe they day of salvation has not come. Let us witness the eve of our deliverance unto one another. The Eve of Salvation will fall nigh unto the dawning of reconciliation for our sins. Because we can only see the thing bound to our hearts, and despair for the things we await. For reconciliation of our sins we’re accepted because we can accept everything and everyone.

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