Oh Lord,
I come before you a broken man.
Beaten and betrayed,
scorned and condemned.

I want to live.
I want life.
I can’t take this destruction of death;
this cesspool.

Oh Lord,
fill me with Your wisdom,
teach me with Your guidance.
Save me from this infinity of inferno.

Though they may mock,
taunt
and speak out of turn,
they cannot seek You,
for You are not known to them.

They silence themselves,
becoming their own critics.
They beat on the wounded,
and depart the despaired.

They shall not know,
that which was never meant to be hidden.
A world quite near to here,
yet very far.
A world to destroy all the myths
of souled-out archetypes.

Long gone and forgotten will our world nearly be.
The other world remaining a precious jewel to those who know.
No type of hierarchy, a school of one.
Soon will this world be known to those who seek it.

Remember always the language of the universe,
the wisdom of those who do not speak,
the whispers of ancestral past.