Birth of Heresy

Birth of Heresy

 

You who have long planned your holy death,

porous, fierce, seraphim-like, deserve

defeats more than anyone else.

 

Finding a way out means opening yourself

up to greater darkness, abrupt sacrifice

is desired by both Heaven and Earth.

 

And they are the Foreign Land. Now and eons,

to an incomprehensive end, we are thwarted

pilgrimages alongside that untrodden path.

 

Worn out is the tree of Eden, barren of fruit.

Pale rejection, decrepit remorse! Lacking of

manifestation is this orchestra of angels!

 

O, human intelligence! Imbibed confidence

from vaporous chimeras, irksomely sobbing

the unteemed truth: God is loneliness.

 

2004-6-20