You will never find your soulmate
by shopping through windows.
Windows sell appearances.
The obvious is not clarity.
It is a mask
on the face of depth.
Love is purchased with virtue and heart,
the currency of the unseen world,
the only real world.
Its price is death:
an unfulfilled life,
the body turned mine,
the soul excavated,
candles burning their vessels for light
moth, for enlightenment.
A lifetime surrendered
for one moment of eternity.
Reverse your glasses.
In the throat of the hourglass,
in the pivot of mirrors,
in the decimal point of number and time,
every image stands inverted.
Those who speak the truth
are imprisoned.
Liars rule.
Destroyers of justice
march beneath sacred banners,
while the faithful swim
through spit and rot
toward the Cross,
an everlasting path
through the Golgothas of mankind.
The Antichrist wears Christ’s face.
Christ bears the mark of Antichrist.
For the demon,
thirst is always the same:
the thirst for children’s blood.
Scream out your heart.
Feel shame for deceit,
even when it is not yours.
Fear your silence
more than silencers.
Let heart resist injustice,
or lose both entirely.
Seeking truth,
one is never alone!
Light is never lost,
in abandoned streets,
In the ghost towns of crowds
It is never unseen,
even in the deepest dark.
No one who follows the crowd
finds illumination.
Do not dig in dirt
for a lost lantern.
Light does not die in darkness.
And the soulmate
is the scarlet rose
growing
on the summit of thorns.
