there is the power of man

and there is the will of God

when the two do not pursue the same method

tragedy is necessary

 

I am a tragedy;

a poem blindly written, and rewritten and rewritten, but never once read

 

monsters are born of this flaw within our nature

this flaw is bred into us in our flesh and in our deeds

I am a monster;

a disease

a virus

a defect of the mind

the heart

the soul

 

when the neurotic mind of man can self-realize a God

one can see a glimpse of his own truth

I am a lie;

spoken

written

thought

repeated

believed

mistaken

 

the potency of the serpent

the glory of the light

the fragility of man

 

the unabashed will of venom

the resurrection of life

the reality of sin

 

yet, I continue to see, after all of this

that there was a moment

an instant

where I understood this flood of life that filled my veins, and floored the walls of my mind

the shimmering young skin of the winding, coiling serpent

now in the gleam of glorious light

and the freedom felt when finally succumbing

to the will of your own fragility

 

lightning struck the page

and meaning forever flowed from it