Inasmuch I had found confort
within a self unbeknown,
inasmuch I had found peace
within solitude of reality,
I sought objective truth above all
to cure mine ailing curiosity.
Be it I suffer more tomorrow.
Be it mine eyes see darkness
in the light of truth.

I have discovered the device of mine own undoing mayhaps.
For under further introspection,
the reality of the self has become falsified.

The belief of joy as divine?
A mere chemical addiction.
The concept of deity?
A mere pretense of faith.
The mechanics of value dissected,
exposing their arbitrary innards.

For more unwelcome as it may be,
ironic at its purest, the deeper I dig,
the more grave it comes to be.
The more literality I come to accept,
the less literate I come to be.

Washing off all purity
after affirming my sins,
my being becomes one with nature;
realizing the amoral animal within.
Within...
Albeit a minor change animate.
Albeit a subtle suggestion of expression,
or so I had thought.


Now stripped internally
of the faulty concepts:
of the subjective meaning,
of the unobtainable purpose,
of the illusionary empathy,
of the misguided sympathy--
Constructs now ****** and broken for their purpose within.
Constructs antagonized for their naughtness without.


Naught of important significance.
Culling of transcendent thought
unto an impulsive materialism.
nothing more than what is observed
shall be of any use to me.
I am enlightened.

And the price of this enlightenment?...

Only my soul.