I am an angel of light, but darkness is not always evil. There is a darkness within me, like deep crimson blood-red suffering. Whole body, love alone. I must unleash my Shiva, my Dark Lord of Love. My eyes are clear, moistened by tears for the suffering and beauty of frgaile being. Three hearts, like a mini-Trinity in my breast, open to the immensity, grateful for the shearing emotionality, peace, and ectasy of wounded bliss.

The wind blows and the flowers rustle,
as life ebbs slowly away
beating,
with a smile,
dying alone in aloneness.
Mind drifting to the clouds of eternal peace,
where I am...who is left for this?

All that matters is this of which I can not speak, and yet must never cease to sound. Gospel. Do not rage against the dying of the light, love it and surrender to the grace-drenched absurdity.

A compassionate saturation bombing from my heart that explodes my resistance into nothingness.