Balthazar

 
 
In the steadfast moving locus of time space continuum,
amidst the million events-possible, probable; despite
the chance of errors, upheavals, ex pluribus unum,
Balthazar always understands beyond anyone's comprehension,
thus making a fascinating case study to meditate upon,
definitely reaching somewhere: a non-existent plane
which ceases to be ambiguous by the power in
the fusion of denial and suggestion.

The origin of pseudo-understanding
is no less significant than the very
creation of an alpha centauri,
you see, as there are always
a few trillion more.

Balthazar knows. Hence he is
crushed under the weight of truth
static, tragic; a portrait of purity and pathos,
a fluid womb of truth: the elusive half-truth that is.

Long live Balthazar and your celebrated alienation,
trapped and exhibited time and again
without braying, freedom or salvation.

Balthazar: the fallen demi-god,
a portrait of purity.

There are always
a trillion more,
Balthazar knows;
hence he is.





for Ray