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Poem

Nothing compares to the stillness of the soul.
Remain dignified
even within the spiral of desolation.
Remain upright
before the arrogance of opulence.

Life,
an hourglass filled with illusions.
The celestial spark
is lashed by the insolence
of fleeting vanities
idolized by humankind,
whenever it strays
from the love of the Grand Architect.

To sanctify goodness
is to divert the apostles of chaos
from the roads of our fate.

One existence
to purify myself
within the darkness of my weaknesses.
I know all my transgressions.
I was born guilty,
but I shall depart innocent.

I fight my demons each day
with the same self-denial.
I seek happiness
in mortification,
like a sacrificial lamb.

Nothing compares
to harmony and serenity.

Failures
have taught me to savor
the pleasures of silence.
My tormented mind
consumes the hatred of my enemies
like a hard drug.

I have but one journey
through this purgatory.
My penance
has not yet begun.

I’ve stopped
chasing after
the illusions of this world
fertile in decadence.

Imperfect,
thus dissatisfied
since the womb
of the one who gave me life.

I am
the sanctuary
of paradoxes
and countless contradictions.

I sustain
a battered shell
destined to die and decay.

I am saddened to have been born,
yet I cling to life
like the terminally ill in palliative care.

I give thanks
to the universal force
for granting me its mercy.

I’ve traveled far
to read
the silences
of human beings.

In my dreams,
my ethereal body
wanders freely
across distant continents.

I hate the Reaper,
that silent witch
who will keep me
from knowing
every country
on this planet.

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