Pain
Pain
Pain is good!
Lashing in waves against a beach of broken limbs,
Strings of broken shells that once held pearls, riding on the
Waves of life, eddying swirls, ebbing and flowing, glowing and surging
Up in defiance of Jove's
Thunderous bolts,
Around the sempiternal lighthouse of
Love: the flawed animus that turns the world.
Pain is Life.
Of broken promises; infernal
Obligations to the waters and the blood from His riven side
Of shattered dreams,
That flowed in carmine rivers down
Golgotha, over valleys of rattling bones,
To mingle His Passion, deep with the
Darkly dreaming mysteries of the
Seven seas.
Pain is Love.
Pain is in all;
In the sledgehammer crashing on baubles of transient bliss;
Pain is in the severed umbilical cord,
In the tangled masses of blue-black stillborn songs.
Pain is in the turbulent air,
In the watery grave of lost sailors' souls;
In the blazing flames of the forest's vengeance;
In the clinging earth around nimble feet!
Pain is the jeweled key to the prison locks we forge for
Our very own splendid golden cages.
Pain is Truth!