Lover's Offence (moments of moral collapse)
Obligations, a liability imposed on the imbecile,
mercilessly, by apaths: the unbecoming, unassuming ones;
on the ordeal of ascension to power, and enslave the young ones,
a rueful act in the entirety of its procession.
Then the individualist rise!
Conception of the sovereign of self, a complete control over oneself;
problems arise.
Those humbled ones then begin to conform, only a seldom contrarian shall arise,
perhaps even the awoken one,
from the litter that now, mostly pertains to a superficial structure;
having a supervisor residing at a higher domain of conscious.
“Authority, possession of power.
Ingenuity, control of said power, implication over the state.
Terror, subjugation of women and children, bringing forth an age of dormant men.
Negligence, the great fall.
Resistance, control, the sole saviour of the regality, last resort of the King Consort;
Perpetually, in seclusion from the Crown.”
The denouncers of the dreaded culture are subsequently tagged as atheist and corrupt.
They are then made a victim of ostracism, and public humiliation.
It is the moral obligation of this individual to harness the assault,
and strangle it to death—make certain of being the witness of its final breath.
I, look up to the sky, with tears in my eyes,
and same on the ground, when I shift my gaze.
The cause lied in the culture I've come to inherit,
the face that I've been moulded into, by hands that relied on the sanity of myself.
Then, it was the terror of being seen, humiliated because I seek to know,
consider, feel, to remain in conflict,
of being uptight through it all,
to contain all that is, and refrain from enduing disdain upon the perpetrators of the assault.
A moment of neglect, an act of compromise,
treading past a mutually shared line.
A sudden collapse! Shattering windows, shards on the floor,
and from the inlet up above, unto myself.
Yet there was no sound to be heard, or sighting of a part-in-hand of the crime—
it was I, bursting upon myself, for this act of neglect had put to spark in me
the notion of shame, and pity, which had been set in motion, and towards fruition,
perpetually, until I gasped for my final breath of life.
I was at fault.
I glared and sought wonder, for it was an unforgivingly dreary life.
In seclusion, the condition which fell upon me as my damned fate,
I kept nevertheless, a keen eye, for a simpler way:
“...to settle, to sustain a normal life.”
“riddled to the dilemmatic extent, in picking the normal, complacent, or virtuous life.”
Common tugs where people fall, I rose from them,
only to re-immerse into mud on my way back from the Enlightenment.
Nirvana, then remains as not a final end,
but a step further into atonement for the virgin, un-inclined.
The glory, and beckoning of Buddha within the self is then akin to sepsis,
which once malignant, sustains until the utmost clarity of thought is attained.
“Nothing remains. None at all. The wound was fatal…”
“So, it shall bleed to death, the corpse.”
“Thus a complete eradication, and clarity of thought.”