5039. I AM NOT HIDING SACRIFICE

I AM NOT HIDING SACRIFICE

My right eye comes up to the level of God.

My left hand is sunk to the mud of Lucifer.

All that I do is a candle's breath from the

boundaries of darkness, yet a small ways 

from the light as well. There's the paradox

sandwich I eat every day. Sometimes I 

figure I have had enough, will not go on, 

have no remaining need to be : and then

it passes off, like a basketball guy getting

rid of the ball, I still jog down the court

with nothing in my hands at all.

-

I have a countess for the windmill's 

weather-vane high atop the peak  -  yes,

spinning and twirling in some form of wind, 

she first intrigues and delights, then puzzles

and angers. All this, while the wind yet blows.

-

I am still here : ravished and rabid perhaps,

but here nonetheless. Hungry for the Truth, and

thirsting for lies as well  -  the true dichotomy of

a simple, wooden, human man. Carve me, cut

me, saw me, and I shall yet go on I'm sure.