A Joy So Near To Melancholy

Forgone. Surge. The Elemental Dirge. Beyond The Surge. Devise. Inspect. Derive. Correct. Begin. “Beyond the surge, under waves submerged, grant me your blessing, o Queen of Earth!” O her eternity doves fly me to the heavens! I look below and don’t say my goodbyes, for I am here now, And the pordrone mitherlings fight for scraps, While I dance above grass, in the pillows of clouds not yet seen, at the verge of cliffs where doves come to clean, I am here, you are here. What more could I ever want, Could you make that crystal clear? Despair is known not to the one who stays, but to the one, who leaves. Who leaves to the depths of Hell, where no man should ever make it out alive? Me. Yet, here I am. Forged from the blood of God’s soldiers, alchemically altered by the transmutation of Satanic treasures, I come out alive, yet dead. My body never left Hell. But my Mind and Soul, Returned to Heaven, Just for a Kiss.

Why I Fly Why does it matter where I fly, If I never wonder why? Elephant of Doom stomps through the grounds. They haven’t seen such a sight in their lifetime— can there be a reason found? Godly and provoking, a village now stuck choking, round and round men croaking… blood forever soaking. I vanish in a flash and direct my flight somewhere else. Do I wonder why, if I fly, fly, fly? I sit upon a mountaintop, waiting for the trumpets of men to sound their last lingering note — and then stop. I count: one, two, three, go! I watch thousands of men charge, spears in hand. Hours pass by, and I can’t understand. The gutting and wrenching, the screaming, the clenching — a frenzy for a life worth catching. I wonder why, and fly, fly fly. I return to the village, curious as I am. Burnt down in the rampage of an animal, I decide there’s nothing left. I scan the hot, humid savannah: thick, ta...