- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Infinite
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Translucent minions of fanatical religion, erring on the side of caution, often misinterpret the beauty of the jurassic nature of their opponents.
The world is a tragic mutation of thought, a seed of truth sprouts upwards towards Zion - towards Heaven.
Seraphim silence soldiers of sainthood, keeping touch with the infinite nothing.
On my right side, a dove. On my left, a gosling.
Two paths diverged in a wood, yet I follow both at will.
I see the light of truth.
I reach for it.
Tangible.
Touched.
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