Please translate “Am. Amen!”
Embroidered, entangled, and engendered into thine ethereal essence
Lifteth and parteth an immense joy of pursuit that invadeth with a fluorescence
Ornamented and orbed in the omnipotent dew of loving life that is worth the second
Spent in cold callous controversy that bringeth us, adventurers, closer to death’s mawe.
How hath the starry steeple destined me? How have my frivolous fates been reckoned
Within thee, Mother Truth? The sleuth’s silent suffering is to seek thee out in a land of law
That defieth thine own being whole, hollowed, in merity . . . Wherefore have the godheads
In the majestic magnificence mangled the minds of men such? I spread the seeds on the bed
Of rosy, glazen-eyed doubt and prepare myself for what methinks shall be the fruitless wait
Of hope for thee and thy sweet suffocating smiling poison. The truth that thou art the great
Art that ‘scapeth me in every elegant turn. Airy and wide thou wendest free while I may merely
Pretend that I have some peace to defend. On the ramparts of my prescripted fall I eerily
Make my stand. Art thou plural?. Art thou infinite within me contradictory? Visages of confusion
To raze my empire of antiquated certainty. Aye. You are. And to ye, enraptured cryptic delusion,
I have been enthralled wickedly to the aged perpetuity of your selfish smoke. How it arc’th in my
Earliest perplex complications. I never whiffed a puff of that putrefying smoke but it annihilateth
My whole soul with the sole goal of careless conquest and dominion over what sleepeth in sky.
Sky of my desires and of funeral pyres and hateful fires and my native spires. How you inspire.
Under the force that is in thee, individual concrete callous fact, I am driven to endlessly perspire
As a madman with the certainty of water only to meet thy brother fire? Why must you, children,
Leave my soul here to expire? I hear ye in the soporific swelling of a swallow or weeping wren
And am led to pursue some sense of strange zen. Methinks I cannot love ye all with isonomy
And thusly I scoop up my scattered shards of shrapnel soul and set them on one heteronomy.
The heteronomy of me as it may be. So may I be as it should. For all, I have . . . Am. Amen!