We wait for light,
but behold darkness;
This I profess.
The more I learn, the less I know.
I always wondered how it can be so.
Perhaps the true delight is not knowing
but finding?
Searching through a demon haunted world,
not knowing what I hope to find.
The arc of my mind bends
toward a singularity,
accelerating the perception of time.
Into a point this focus is compressed,
adding new knowledge, everything is coalesced.
I know more now than before.
The only result being I need more...
Life can't ever be long enough
to find a key that sets me free.
Would I even want to be released?
The answer to this question is no.
Treading into the unknown;
places where I'll be left alone.
I'll use my mind as a wick
and my soul as the oil to light the way
just for a short while longer,
like a candle in the dark...
Some feel that the flexibility
of the human mind
is irreconcilable with the notion
that it resides on rigid hardware.
Though, if our self-understanding can't ever be truly
complete then perhaps it's not so strange to feel that way.
What was once such a tangible feeling,
now is lost,
and seems to lead to a paradox.
“You can't consistently assert this truth.”
Whether you assert it or deny it,
you would inevitably admit
that you are not able to assert
every single truth about yourself.
You've reached the ω barrier.
You can't escape the system
because it's built out of you.
We see complex emergent phenomena from deep within,
bubble to the surface.
This fits well with the observation that we
simply can’t force ourselves to describe the
neural or even symbolic functions from whence
something like ambition emerges from; it’s just there.
We could very well just be machines
underneath it all and never be the wiser.
Then so be it. It wouldn't change anything.
Nothing. Not a goddamn thing.
How do you know I'm mad?
You must be,
or you wouldn't have come here.
My eyes widen
as I step through into another world,
lucid unlike one's dreams.
It seems familiar but not quite.
Has something changed
during the night?
I do feel a little different
now that I think about it.
But if I'm not the same today
as I was yesterday, how can I allay
thoughts cast in disarray?
a shifting identity?
I'm afraid I can't explain myself
because I'm not myself, you see?
Treading through with a curious gait,
the vagrant mask I wear
negates the world.
Simulacrum of a man,
(maybe the shadow is the one who casts the man?)
springing from the shadow;
paint a picture of me that fits the frame
so I can blend into the madness.
Endless regression.
Treading through with a curious gait,
the vagrant mask I wear
negates the world.
Can it really be that everone is crazy,
or is it only me that's out of my mind?
Does that question even make sense? No.
Treading through with a curious gait,
the vagrant mask I wear
negates the world.
If I had a world of my own,
everything would be nonsense.
Nothing would be what it is,
because everything would be what it isn't.
And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be.
And what it wouldn't be, it would.
You see???
Please leave me alone today.
Somber weather, a weakened vigor,
this pensive ambiance weighs my heart.
Life, as you'll see,
has a tendency to fool most all, but not me.
So I ask as another did in his soliloquy,
"to be or not to be?"
An irreconcilable dichotomy
permeates everything that we do:
our bodies and symbolic reasoning.
The bridge that connects the two
breaks down when we
rationalize who we love, why we hope,
why we cry when it’ s time to die;
and this all troubles me.
Whereof one cannot speak
thereof one must be silent.
It is not without a fine stroke of irony
that words are all we have.
So I'm left with nothing to to say to you.
In the depths of our reason there lies darkness in pure form.
Turn away.
Leave me here to wallow in my own
solipsistic, dark, and melancholy world.
The strange winds of philosophy
will lead me where they will.
All my ambition draws its strength
from the shadow of a dream,
perched up past the clouds
in an august solitude.
We are the movers of the earth.
Life is handed to us, but survival is not.
We take the first steps armed with nothing
but our minds and senses,
not stopping to ask
who'll let us shape this world,
but who's going to stop us?
Championing humanity, carrying the flame;
Ne'er living out this life for anyone else,
just like you would never ask someone
to live their life for you.
The man who speaks of sacrifice is speaking of slaves and masters,
and intends to be the master.
We will not subordinate ourselves
to the will of the collective.
I do not recognize anybody's right to one
minute of my life, nor to any part of my energy,
nor to any achievement of mine,
and especially not the conduit that
houses the essence of my humanity: my mind.
What I have to offer
is the product of ambition, love, fire,
far greater than that of a tepid soul.
What can you offer me?
To view the world through eyes of fire,
I look up and invoke thy aid.
Sing o muse,
and tell us why the one that's broken
has our sympathy.
Through no fault of our own,
the absolute rendered out his judgement
on the ones that were more
than an empty shell,
and cast down shadows
of an inverse nature.
Springing full formed from my head,
my blood, dripping with sin.
This poisoned unity,
produced the death that you so fear.
Shackled by destiny,
to oppose the heavenly.
Neverending in suffering.
There is no repose, every second's infinite.
I yearn to bring destruction.
Ease would recant vows made in pain
as violent and void,
but forgiveness can't grow,
where wounds of hate pierced so deep.
Thoughts of revenge are so sweet,
intricate plans fill my head.
Soon they turn bitter, ere long,
back on me they recoil.
Neverending in suffering.
There is no repose, every second's infinite.
I yearn to bring destruction.
brew in hate, lie and wait, then destroy.
If I had a choice, know that I'd rather
reign in hell, than serve in heaven.
The mind is a lonely place to be
when ones soul's quaint, honestly.
I'll accept your kind words,
only because you offer nothing more.
What greatness can be left
when flatterers humble themselves
and humble men are only flatterers.
Honor and happiness
awaits only those who do great deeds.
'Tis nearly vulgar to triumph over
the insignificant.
Still, what makes one great...
when nothing is truly significant?
Strong when facing power.
Considerate to the weak.
Forced by necessity
to show one's love and hatred openly.
Instinct and logic simultaneously.
Destined deterministic great souled man,
simply has no choice.
The mind is a lonely place to be
when ones soul is quaint, honestly.
Once more you near me,
wavering apparition;
a turbid haze every time you alight.
Oft' have you come at dead of night
and pressed me.
Will I yield to your petition?
Let go of your longing for (truth)
a transcending meaning.
You conjure up fleeting (thoughts)
dreams and wonders
Old grief revives a fair love
wrapped round my neck.
Remember fond caress, a silken dress...
tears lave my heart,
which by fortune was cheated
to believe the universe
held answers I needed.
Time spent searching for knowledge of
the world through the faculty of reason.
Let go of your longing for (truth)
a transcending meaning.
You conjure up fleeting (thoughts)
dreams and wonders
If I could only find
our true nature through my mind…
What lies beyond doesn't interest me.
It's this moon that shines down
onto my sorrows.
What this means to me becomes existence.
AVRVM
INFVSCATVM ET OBSCVRVM
CANENS NOCTIS
CANENS MORTIS
ACQVIESCENS CANENDO
ET ANGELVM SOMNIT
AVRORARVM ET BELLORVM
SAECVLORVM FVNDIT LACRIMAS
LACRIMAS RERVM BELLORVM
O ARMA O LAMINA AVRATA
GESTV GRAVES NIMIVM
GRAVES NIMIVM VOLATV
AVRVM
INFUSCATVM ET TORPIDVM AVRVM
SVSCITA
DILABERE EX ARMIS IN ALAM
VOLEMVS ITERVM
ALTE SVPRA MVRVM
ANGELI RENASCENTES ET
EXVLTANTES AD ALAS
AVRORARVM
AVRORVM
SOMNORVM
AVRVM
CANENS ALARVM
CANENS VMBRARVM
Where I come from is a place
of simple creatures, of no consequence.
For as long as I can remember
I've been obsessed with achieving greatness but to what end?
The notion seemed so deep,
brooding disdain all along in me.
That a greater purpose
lay hidden from view.
Searching in vain,
to leave this domain.
Though there have been many
whom I could call friend,
roads steep and laced with pain
have forced every one I've ever known
to fall behind.
They lied down to rest,
while I carried on forward.
But I felt no satisfaction,
even though I am the
great sage equal of heaven.
Searching in vain,
to leave this domain.
I was told that the truth is:
“Only those who risk going too far
can find out how far one can go.”
Now I've crossed the earth;
I've reached the end,
and offered my soul.
What can one do to savor life
when everything is rushing so fast.
All alone, slave of time,
I know there is no turning back.
The purple dusk reveals a new road
reaching out to the stars.
To End is to Begin anew.
The colors have changed to a darker hue.
I have now finally awakened to,
emptiness.
My mind meanders like a river
through green valleys,
searching fervently for truth
in far distant places,
though I need only look as far as my heart to find both truth and delusion
too close for comfort.
One day these bones will rest in grass, salted by the tears of my family,
serenaded by the wind,
then forgotten like last night's dream…
I'll be the harbinger of darkness.
Let me bring you the fear that can be found in a handful of dust.
What you have to realize
is that you die every single day.
When you lay your head to sleep
and everything disappears
where do you go?
how do you know?
are you sad that you have to
end it so soon?
Yes, this is the end.
Will you refuse to go back to sleep
now that you can never wake up again?
Would you have lived your last day differently?
I'll be the arbiter of time.
Our birth is nothing but our death begun.
What a ridiculous notion
to hold life so precious,
as if it had some intrinsic value
beyond what is important to us subjectively; instinctively.
All we can do is
enjoy the Means, End suffering,
and not dwell on these things too much.
Death will blanket us all in the end.
Love, it renders even wise men into fools;
a force that has followed us for so long;
yet all we can hope to do is give in
to something so wonderful.
If one's soul could be a song,
If one's soul could sing along.
There would be nothing that I could say,
to match the way I feel.
So I will simply read you a verse;
forgive me.
E'en though
I've known you now
for quite some time,
In life there's naught at all that can contend
With meeting your soft lips, oh so sublime,
And for a moment feel my breath suspend.
As tacit words are whispered to my heart,
They gently beckon me to your embrace.
Without a thought I readily depart
The world and leave my worries to efface.
In your dark eyes there lies a tenderness
I am not worthy of yet you've bestowed,
And so my soul is nursed by your caress
Where normally the sands of time erode.
A thousand years together will not do
To weary me of one more kiss from you.