*
As I was in the Spirit, a Shiver came to Spoil my Exaltation
- it Ran Down the Lakes of Poison in my Veins, as before
my very Eyes a Phantasm Swept by. White & Shadowy.
The Phantasm had taken my Image & I asked of it:
“ Is this State caused by Golden Rain from the Highest
Plateau in Heaven or is it the Fire from the Deepest Pyres
of Hell? “
Quite shortly after, I Heard an Angel sing from
Above, amidst a Choir of Angelic Song: “ Child of Man,
Night is the Morning Sky of the Heavens. “
*
O my Dear Reader, as a Child I would often Bathe in the
Tears from the most Capricious & Depressed Clouds -
Unfeigned Forms of Melancholy.
At the Crescendo of Night the Streets are Wet with
the Tears of such Childhood Innocence.
Only the Children are Blessed!
O Fatuity!
Innocence Lost to Knowledge - & Knowledge being
the only Return to Innocence.
Copyright © 2003, 2004 The Barbelo