Conscious exhaustion

 
I need to wait in a state of expectant readiness. The millstone of sin's redeeming mill is not much - it's almost overwhelming. As if in the beating of my heart, another, more secret, darker melody, which only a few listen to, is ready and mingling in my heartbeat. Forever startled, my orphan-eye listens at every age, scanning in search of honest-to-goodness romance. The ambrosial medicine of all-filling All-waterfalls.

Many a time have I visited the bumping slopes of idle bliss. The baroque barge of voiced, silenced glances is a ricochet-like lust- For undivided, One-glances have indeed their magic power and secret keys, With which they open soul-petals in their delicate harmony.

I cling to the recurring, happier images of my memories, till my prayer fills the superficial complexity of things real and imagined. I wring a cosmic emptiness from myself whenever I must still play honestly and truthfully the greedy but deceitful desire for happiness.

Often an innate deceptive emotion can no longer return, all its remaining evaporation dissolves into an unbearable present.- I am deliberately more inclined to divert my waking attention from an indispensable feeling, just so that it no longer burns my sensitive being like a scarlet stamp and does not cause further suicidal, tyrannical thoughts.

When I remember that I could bravely test myself, the vital energy of my organisation is suddenly drained and I surrender myself to conscious exhaustion!