An illegitimate shows-man
As the distinction between years fades,
the Edo period meets the Restoration:
few culminate, "Rejoice!", a heightened sense of belonging
in a previously foreign-conceived race.
The 'danna' heads off again, leaving a letter of abandonment,
written with poetic expertise,
at the very least, the two concubines now made spare shan't wither
as leaves in the upcoming winner.
A new year dawns, and I embark on a new peril,
a primal instinct of man, to fend off his fate and climb forth the ladder,
declare home upon a higher land—
"The higher aspect of being isn't to be claimed, it's to be sought as truth;
by running oneself as a damsel,
leaving the nape bare, welcoming whatever comes:
the damnation or the ascent—this is the becoming;
all judgement, and of sin, and lust, and greed are abandoned
where the ascended one shan’t bestow its foot, but rather lead by command."
I hadn't kept my favours in check, and if so intentionally,
glossed over the commitment I was ought to oblige,
and so it came, the free-fall—
and the journey to my damnation began—
it reapt on the sin commanded by my peers, under the effect of perpetual nausea,
and conformity to the norm:
a gruesome death of the sovereignty of self, and of thought.
I hadn't the time to dwell in distraught,
the state had to be owned and melded
into weaponry for what was to come as I reached the end;
the frown had now been paired with a smile, a horrid expression!
Molten metal surfaced from the cracks that'd formed—
raining as drops upon this terrain I was being pulled towards.
The peril had cost the bird its feathers of flight—the sole possession it withheld,
traversing seas, never catching a moment's rest.
It hadn't the feet as other aves—it would perish as the feathers came to halt,
and the commotion put to stop.
The memory regurgitated as another one of those godforsaken drops,
I recalled no memory of that story as I fell further down,
what I had in mind were rather the women I'd for long kept enslaved;
they'd now been freed, but restrained by the world as it emerged
from the womb, the war, into a new age.
The entirety of the world then suddenly became a vulgar joke,
and I laughed until my final breath—
I was ‘foolish’ enough to revoke my societal titles very early on—
I didn't understand that in damnation lied eternal continuity,
as dust,
in damnation lied death.