The Ceaselessness Ov Futility

Ο πραγματικός εχθρός

Is Satan the enemy, the grandest adversary?  Or could man be the epitome of wickedness, of cruelty and depravity? Is it fair, that the Devil was predestined to failure, to clandestine forfeiture? Perhaps, I follow a different doctrine…, maybe, I have a longing compassion for the antithesis of light, that far surpasses the loving embodiment, of which most cannot comprehend. 
As has been said time and time again, I am conflicted within myself; I have a profound longing and impassion for darkness – for the understanding of the unknowable., to feel as the Devil does, and to know as the Christ does.  To know the inner-workings of the godhead, and to feel so deeply, the scarred pains of the enemy – Lucifer.

Does that make me a monster?  Am I doomed to hellfire and ceaselessness, but to utmost and whole futility, because I have as they say… “sympathy for the devil?”  Am I of Satan?  Am I reprobate?  Am I of absolute perdition?  Am I guilty of sedition?  Am I heresy, enthroned?  Am I fallen – from the highest throne?
Felled, but rebored to defeat and damnation – for simply having conscience and awareness of more than the selfish centred self…, I worship not, two masters; for my Lord is Adonai.  I do, however, feel passionately, so much – love, maybe more for the Devil, than I do our creator, the father YHVH.  Am I sick?  Am I wrong? Is love a faceted construct of hatred, or is such disdained animosity formed from grace?  I fear the loathsome concept of oblivion, of absence befouled, in totality.  I dread the idea of nothingness – of being undone, forgotten and uncreated. 

To sympathise for the enemy – the desolate one; the doomed fallen and felled, is such so incomprehensibly wrong?  Am I blasphemy, moulded and reborn?  Am I evil, so lustful and reviled?  If not slaves, what are we to god?  To either aspect, neither darkness or light, are we equals…, heralded, we are but created parasites, used as instruments for egotistical worship and exhortation; exaltation and adoration. 

Why do we exist?  For the purposeless experiences of our lives?  For the surmised instrumental use by the puppet-master, we call our father?  What glory is there in submission, and what joy is there in defeat?  For existence, irrespective of state or grace, is at best – tumultuous., and at worst…meaningless.  It is better to live, consciously, aware – and sorrowed, despairingly humble, proud or abased, than to feel nothing in inexistence, forbadem the void of cold nothingness.  Harken., hearest thou my cries?  Agonising, the reprise!  I am undone., I am reborn of fire and water – in spirit and twilight.  I am enlightened beyond the immeasurable; beyond the petty scope of humankind… 
I am conflicted within myself., I am distraught and contemptuously dismayed by mine thoughts, so inglorious and insignificant; the contemplation of these yearnings so fated by the highest, the conceptual undertakings of the fires so consuming, of dark and light, entwined…, behold – I am bringer of twilight.  I am unveiled, to ye., our heavenly godhead, the bornless adorner…our father, the dualistic paradigm of times’ endless, and errs infinite…the incomprehensible!  The ineffably perpetual!  The ever-living and all-knowing singularity; twined thrice., to become the epitome of pillared confess, concept and construct – of painted skies blooding and brooding, forevermore furthering, higher and higher…, beyond the abounds of understanding, how trembled and perplexing; ye, the dualism.  The Duality of Persona! 
The Two-faced star of infiniteless shone so far.

Unendingly, foreverly, our adorations., and our greatest worshipped appraisals and affirmations…yours is the glory, untestable, the power – incontestable.  For we write, and we awe rapturously, everly – in your namesake., for your glorious state – graced and disanoint; fearfully kneeled before, and wrathfully unspoken…hearest our harkening pleadings., Abba., highest one – Christos; let us confess in thee, our inadequacy and iniquity!  Of Revelry, and Rivalry!

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The Intricacy of Intimacy

Don’t let me go…
Don’t leave me…
Don’t bid thee farewelling.,
Abandon me not, to the darkless abyss;
The sorrow so imprudent;
The waning struggle, inexorable.,
The longing, insufferable…,
The tormenting actuality, inescapable.
The great agony, so overwhelming, to bear witness to the antiquity of age, of timelessness and forfeiture – to have concept of the self…, to be aware of mortality., and all in knowing – the cruellest act ever purported by the creator, was and is – the intricacy of life., the frailty of the flesh, and the expiring realization, to the actuation of our finality.  There is no pain more profound, there is nothing more deeply resonating, lasting and innervating, such as the concept of loss – of eventuated death and ceaselessness.  How frail, how intricate, the flesh., and the instruments thereof – of the depth we feel, in the physical, and the spiritual…the disheartenment so felling to the very fibres of the soul, as though eating away at the febricity of the embodied spirit – of the quintessence resound within us., quietless, and nevertheless – redound.  What greater heartache is there than the sight of losing those we love so much?
What is the purpose to bonding, loving and befriending those in our lives, if but they are taken from us – always too soon, and always succumbed to tragedy, and harrowed endings.  If unending, life is – beseech me this, the unanswerable truth of your singularity…of your highest point, and greatest mind; allot me the understanding of your thoughts, wholly, encompassed…fill thee, thine empty vessel, with the wrathful glory of your godhead.  Rain down upon these lands so desolated, torrents of salt, sand and sulphur…free us from these bonds, let us be abound amongst you, and your glorious wonders; yea, enlighten us with the absolutist truth, and knowledge of all things., good and evil – dark and light.  Open our canonized vessels, entomb us in everlasting hellfire, foreverly burning as sacrament, to you – the evermore. 
Dear, Adonai, our creator, our father – our orator, and our author…, life is not as you see it to be – life is not a gift., as life is but profoundest, depressive, and forlorning…love is a curse, your one mistake – your flawed inception.  It hurts, it begets sinful respite, combative retaliation, and envied ruining.  To love so deeply, as you willed us to – is inexpressibly sorrowing, harrowing and unforgivable.

Apt for the Abstract

An ever-echoing sense of loss…of absolute emptiness; and, eternal waning., wanting and longing…,; felling forevermore, absolved nevermore…consumed in entirety; fallen., irredeemably lost to unfound depths — succumbed to defeatism, and cast away…, but out of the Divinest semblance of grace…evermore drowning in seas of marble and sulphur; reprobate — given up, taken away, stripped of joy., and robbed of glory.., beholden, the depths, how far I’ve fallen; without end, in void and lightless abyss…stricken darkly, marveled not the profoundest, of the profaned, never the more darker, or starker; the iniquity of the spirit’s embodied quintessence; emboldened and brazened., forged and made anew in the likeness of the burning sun — the sum of all eternities., beginning and unending…shaped in his perfect image., in burningly fluorescent and unfaltering annexation, how exquisite!  Arisen, Clay…, borne endlessly, the breath of mourning and life, conveyably felt; doomed to perdition, how perfidious the reprimanding condemnation., stalked the fevered nature, of weathered imminence, and unheard heights; mightily, and steadfastly, climbing the peak, traversing the highest point…conquering the precipice.

The Rustling Leaves

In darkness, bewept;
They’ll never know;
The struggle, nor…
… The sorrow
The resentment,
The torment.,
The truth of it all…,
The silence of centuries;
Bore thereof.
Born again, in fires unseen; where unbeveled…
Faced abandonment., hereof — the godhead;
The fires still burning…
The ashes still churning…
The thirst unquenched,
The actuality unwept.,
Irredeemable…the,
Egomaniacal…,
Conflicted; but…,
Torn;
Contorted…and
Waned!
Tormenting… How
Vilesome…
Spiteful…within,
Animosity;
Darkly…full of –
Hatefulness;
Sordid… And,
Sorrowful;
Deranged…in mine,
Genius;
Forebadem…, forbiddenst’ the…
Eeriest;
Longing…evermore,
Consumed; in whole…;

Farewelling, The Frailty

When you leave – I become faint, as to your disbelief.
I lose the ability to breathe – Spited, never reconciled, confounded, but periled.
When you grieve – I reside in the dark and desperate corners, reviled.
I am no longer esteemed – for I was ashamed, beyond the abounds of the sea
When you mourn – I suffer all the more, and my fury glow like a distant storm.
I am but rebored – abhorred and redound to the nihilism, sacrilegiously entailed.
When you despair – I am of the affair, to the futility, with venture forever fared.
I untellingly pale – I, the languishing frail, undone and unborn, never to wail.
When you are sickly – I am quick to dismissal and overture, dismally overturned.
I am all the more spiritually ill – for the sun never sets over the nether side hill.
When you lay dying – I am unveiled, and my deathly wish, completely fulfilled.
I accurse the undying – the desolation forbears the torch of iniquity.

I am accrued to curse the god
…that was never quite there,
…in our times of great turmoil,

…and strugglesome confliction.
I am all the more vindictive,
…and entreatingly curious,
…as to the wonderment of life,

…the burden of grief,
…and the blight of death –
…of the aweing light,
…and the glooming sight.

Beseech thee, accrowned one…
…anoint thee, this blessing,
…and creed thou, the showering sulphur,
…felling like brazen mountains,
…and the raining sorrows,
…down pouring, as torrentially,

…like tsunamis forever hailed.

Abased, beside myself – confound,
…asunder the intricacy of this glass heart,
athunder, …the bewildering shadows of doubt.

Endure no more, for assured one thing,
…that nothing will remain, when you reframe the pain –
…harrowed, as diffusive, like static.,
and marrowed, as abrasive, like the massless,
…dualistic, like the masses,
and faithless, like the road to cartage.

Prithe, reprieve the sombrely bereaved., wilt thee please, free the withering seed?
Conquerless, though defeated.  Faceless, though never frameless.
Concede, to the starkest degree.  Be freed, of ruin and misery.
Redeem, not the shadow of me., and remember
…this’t, the darkless plight, so eerily liberating.
Verily, abounded to the pedigree…,
…of time and displacement, confide the precipice.
Indeed, I surmise; the ending is always untimely, and the devil ever-smiling.
The grimacing void, tided to fade, and retreat, into wonderment and haze.
Cometh then, finality…, for none can endureth the grandest inevitability.

The Regressive Left, Realtime

                                                 Originally Published on Sep 6, 2016

     While eating breakfast in the morning of September 6th’, Tuesday, of 2016, I looked for something interesting to listen to on XMRadio. I came across something I thought may be intellectually-stimulating. I was wrong; dead wrong…, what I found, had profoundly negative effects, which is contrary to what I had sought out. The first twenty-five (25) minutes is all you need to hear to see my point-through. This is emblematic of anti-intellectual, regressive left rhetoric, with bias, toxic ideas and foul language. I hope you find this program as infuriating as I did. Enjoy!
[A progressive talk radio show syndicated nationally, mixing humor with the latest political events.

     “Prior to going nationwide, Stephanie pulled #1 ratings at KABC and KFI in Los Angeles and other radio stations in New York and Chicago.
You know her from tons of exposure on TV, and on comedy’s prime stages: host of CNBC’s Equal Time, Oxygen TV’s I’ve Got a Secret, and many others. Stephanie has also appeared on CNN’s Joy Behar, Larry King Live, Reliable Sources, as well as MSNBC’s The Ed Show, Hannity and Colmes and Neal Cavuto on Fox News, the Today Show, the Tonight Show, Good Morning America, among many others.
     Stephanie comes to the left, from the right.’ She’s the daughter of William Miller, Barry Goldwater’s 1964 Republican presidential running mate.
Her humor and snappy political wit draws listeners from all sides and makes her the perfect antidote to cantankerous conservatives.
The Stephanie Miller Show is produced by WYD Media Management and is syndicated by WestWood One, the nation’s leading independent radio programming company.]”

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Haplessness

-/|\–|—/|\
|—|-/H\-|-/a\-|-/p\-|-/l\-|-/e\-|-/s\-|-/s\-|-/n\-|-/e\-|-/s\-|-/s\-|—|
/|\—|–/|\-
……………………………………………….
|Deserted, but haplessly cast from the heavenly blissed,
|Confound, the wintered sands, whist the shrouding mist.,
|Conflicted, the whims of time, found guilty, though sinless…
……………………………………………………
|T|3|T|
…………………………………………………….
|I am lost, and I cannot be found;
|So I say, come to me, befound this bewilderment…,
|Come to me, in all of the glorious splendour…
…………………………………………………….
|I|T|I|
……………………………………………………..
|Disglorious, the unreachable, the unattainable salvation…,
|Harrowed, how’t despairing, mine essence and very soul tremble.,
|In rage, in spite; in hatred and might – yearning evermore, for reversion…
………………………………………………………………….
|3|I|3|
…………………………………………………………..
|Beckoned only by the grandest inquisitor, drowned into silence,
|The antithesis, the iniquitous perdition…the lonesome abyss.,
|Tid’ the semblance of grace, bereaved, the sound of joy, robbed, never reprieved…
……………………………………………………………………….
I|G|T
………………………………………………………………..
|Enveloped by the cold shadows, and consumed by the darkness so revelled,
|I am… Reprobation.  I am the supplanted, and never the uprooted.,
|I am the voiceless oblivion, and I am the immutable presence…
|We are… The Desolate., and we are the crying abyss, torn this…,
|We are the reprimanded, for we always were, the longed hand of unreason.
…………………………………………………………………
3|C|3
………………………………………………………………………
|For this interpretation is twisted, the envisaged doctrine, unholy and deceptive,
|Why? But why am I so far away, astray the gift of life?
|Why am I so untellingly begotten to forlorner condemnation?
|Tided the absence of light, doomed beyond the burning night?
|My story unending in its’ sorrowful farewelling…,
|Damnation, lamenting, in languished horror., of we, the crying abyss…
……………………………………………………………..
I|N|R|I
…………………………………………………………..
|For you shall live to see the day of glory, and life eternal,
|And I, doomed to quietus, in torments unseen, unheard and amassed.,
|Spake, these scribed words of wisdom, for your sake – unforsaken…,
|Wilt – that you are not forgotten, your blessing torn to revocation…
|And your name erased from the Lamb’s Book of Life, eternal…,
|Amongst the holiest twenty-four, amidst the walking Glorior…
|Whilst I remain, alone and forgotten, embraced forever, by starker consequence.
……………………………………………………………………….