Soliloquy

Truth be told, I spent many a dullard’s winter

stripped of all essence, magnetized

to the bloodless box that degenerates dreams

and saturates souls with the indigestible bile

of delusion.

Forced from my den into a world of pragmatism

and what many called “possibility,”

I had to reconcile my self-perceived

singularities with my many limitations.

I fought against this to the point of madness.

It was while in this state—orbiting the planet

and reaching for the stars, mocking all those

who came to try and talk me down—

that I discovered amongst the lost satellites

a book of ancient verse. In this book,

I discovered the elemental forces of my soul,

a map for my soul’s existence in a material reality which,

up to that point, I had either shunned or ignored.

In the words of the ancient poets, I discovered

life’s true reward: understanding, and the peace

that comes with it, through recognition of beauty

and truth. Time’s illusion became the only enemy,

and timelessness the aim. Pain became nothing but

fuel for my desire, which became greater with every

poetic attempt. Pain indeed became my friend. And the promise

of death, on the scale with the promise of my immortality,

began to lose all of its weight, such that there became less

and less to fear, and more and more to create.

And so, while it was madness that led me toward my fate,

it will be a profound sanity that will allow me to realize it.

Death will welcome me like an old forgotten friend.

Together we will enjoy eternity, drink the immortal elixir,

and go mad. That is all that need be said. Whoever is out there

listening to this, don’t try and emulate the route I have taken.

That route is now impassable, with all the wreckage I have left

in my wake. Instead, forge a new path toward your own truth,

toward your own destiny. I will be waiting for news 

of your great reckoning in the far away country

beyond the realm of Time.