the fated abyss

stealing the breath from me are ideas that burn with the thought
holding tight to myths I dream in tecnicolor
sinking into a reatity of pain that is more realistic than my far away heaven

sorrow flavors the soul so well
that my moments of happiness seem frivilous
silly outburst to tame the savage
surely even the torturer takes a moment to laugh

stinging in the maelstorm of doubt
I look at my Sadist and I understand he's trying to imbue a point of referrence
where the pupil views the master with some sense of respect
of his longing and knowledge

his great intelligence didn't come from stargazing
but great moments of pain rolling that rock up the hill
to be run over by it more times than not

that out very existence was birthed in great moments of violence and chaos
a mad genuis how do you separate the two
Jeckyl without the Hyde
does the great doctor still see his favorite halot rounding the corner in the fog
knowing he will cut her open to see what makes her tick

I wonder how many attempts at creation were undertaken
before there was some symblance of achevement
I wonder at the the beings that were breath life into does their essesnce still dwell

sometimes when I write I hear them over my shouder saying we've tasted
the tears on your cheeks but have never known sadness
they call themselves awfulings I call them darlings

it has occured to me I've seen very old souls staring at me from a babes eyes
and have seen brand new soul staring back from thos of age

there are a great many places to visit in the galaxies I'm on a great voyage
pirating my way through the might abyss searching for the man himself
who set the the golden kingdom but at the root of himself resides in great darkness

it is with trepidation I carry on afraid of the answers I may uncover
may I be mature enough to recognize him when I see him