To The One Anticipating Comments

You're the divinity of a shadow forever bleeding beneath the light of an eclipse; possessing the ability and experience of all life, the last thought for a death you forged, a sacrifice to the compliment before the action picking the face off an orphan hiding her molten tears, Hades' fatal desire, from no one but you, you succumb to the subjective art of sacrilege which suffices you to neglect all hospitality and companionship, to renown your prestige of general loneliness, to crown yourself a martyr of space.

The Psyche smoulders within memory -a principle now condemned to the illusion of the cravings for stability, the habit professing the reason or it's own enslavement. You become your own Sun.
Pathetic journeys to posterity and prophecies despised by the senses -division of notion -seem to possess all these orange and green bounties acclaimed to be the microcosmic remedies of eternal possibility elucidating motion in the universe, as lavishing as the requiem,
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