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The earth reverberates. I stand solely in its
lamentation, living, breathing in its suffering and
affliction of detachment- your tears are my own,
your blood is in my veins, and your sight is mine
as well. Our ears are one. I shake my head and
sigh at the one futility I cannot let go...
αυτό πόνος είναι μόνο δικό μου.
This one sigh is felt by the earth and the earth
alone. No man can recognize this tangent in me,
nor can he discern...
In this way, the earth and I are kin.
There are ghosts in this dimension that observe
such whims...If only I could reach out to them.
They are intangible.
I run from the noise, I bury its destruction.
Though the sounds they shun are the screams of
agony...
I run from their gluttonous laughs- laughs that
devour the very souls of the ashamed.
They dismiss the echoes of grief. Their ears prick
at the accents of malice, for which they hunger to
be entertained.
I run from the noise. I bury its destruction.
In me.
They relish in it. It is the lavish golden calf.
What comes in the silence of forsaken
a healing peace, the angels' passion
a strain of paradise.
Of which you refuse to know.
O latent earth, the blood poured out upon you is
poison
like the words of the belligerent...
Shall you fade away in the deafening silence
before you were ever known?
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