The pacifist of liturgies fallen like rain
Upon a world that cannot resist
Its thunderous rain.
What an atrocity to behold from the past
To the present as darkness is no salvation.
If so, a Descartian Logic is pristine in their
From before, depraved minds, does not
Justify an enslavement
And Deconstruction of free will.
No man should carry the haughtiness
That puts himself on a pulpit throne where
They decimate the beast for being unjust,
Or an instigator of cruel deeds.
No man should talk directly to a god
That has its own creation within the walls of
The one that says he possesses it.
This is so the sheer folly of mankind.
Talk about oneself in the past tense is the ultimate
Reduction of the necessary
Expansion of the true self.
And therefore to abide to molded measurements
Is to walk backwards with both hands and eyes
incapable to act.
As I do know, as certain as death is unavoidable,
The means to ones unbuilt castle,
Is where the mind and the thought points forward.
And thus the hunter looks ahead.
