Redemption

You do not talk about things
You only glance at words
And let the minds of men
Draw what strands they seek

In the cold damp darkness of being
Wherein there is stillness of inaction
Only an abyss of thought
And of periodic motion driven by gravity
Towards the nothingness of fantasy

Sometimes windows appear - to what life
Could have been, should have been,
And sights and visions cloud the darkness
Transporting the self into realms
Of possibilities and empty actions
(Because they are empty as the abyss itself)
But then they throw the self back
Back into the abyss - the self never leaves
The abyss - because the self is the abyss

Good - Evil are but the same thought
The same emotion - flipped over, drawn out
And strewn in front of the world
And logic and illogic meld together
In words spoken and words heard
Wherein the mind sees not what is there
(For what is there truly but the mind)
But what the mind can bear to see
Can want to see, Desires to see

But what about that canker that gnaws
The heart to emptiness and implodes
Everyday under the debilitating burden
Of Self pity, self hatred, self love and self pride
What of the self that consumes itself
Each moment in drawn out epochs of
Pride mired in loathing and love drowned hate

Light snowed down in abruptness of dusk
And lights of the world dim in the end
To welcome the darkness of the night
Where the gaze cannot see and therefore
Creates a world that it can bear to see
And in that bearing it must find its redemption

Because there are no messiahs, there are no realizations
There are no epiphanies, there are no truths
There are no commandments, there are no traditions
There is only self - that gnawing, loathing, pitying, dying
Yet living self - the only redemption, the only salvation