bound by a crumbling mountain, i'm to befriend a: stone; mein herz.*

mythology exists simply because
the study of history is too weak,
history is weak because
it's supra-scientific -
            it hinders if not crutches of
humanism,
   it's squabbling attempt at science -
you can't measure anything
worthwhile billions
and microseconds of history...
           mythology is born from man's
inability to forget, necessitated
by the pursuit of invention...
  revision, glee!
                  man was not born
to remember, he was to grit, grind,
and write his place in the spherostome
of time...
              but i can't dicount
mythology no more than accept
the disfunctionality of a history
"worth" remembering...
                      no history stands
the tides of cherish the logic of myth,
i.e. the "pre-" to history...
             i entertain no crowd,
nor feel no pleasure, do do so...
          i walk among the dead,
for i walk among the dead, in poise
of slumbering from their wake...
i an gravedigger,
the unabashed executioner...
              pity serves the mouth
that breathes with both hands,
rather than with one,
    that serves a dog's cranium for a feast...
     there is no worth of
the wrath of god, riddled,
worth making this earth
     sacremented by the doth of god;
pity your bread,
pity your wine,
but especially, pity your women...
  once the desire  to feast dies,
so does the women...
man is no man if all
compensation is lost in the charm
to repay him...
                 there simply
isn't a man
when there's no woman
to enthral, to un-guard reason!
             no sister, no mother,
no brother, no son...
                 to give man the right
to seek, heart.