A Spirit Risen

Empty corners call my name
The recesses of tempered resistance
Stripped first of being, innate, unknown
Left withering in fields of stainless grass
Slowly did their remnants simmer
Through time would they be remembered
Flashes, mere glimpes would begin to eclipse
The steady stream of predicatability
Of the assessable or measureable
Put forth as our only truth
Laid down as our sole foundation
But each sparkle in the distance, lights upon a lost horizon
Would chink the armour, leaving dents anew
A soul searching for its own existence
In world whose a priori would reduce it to a substance
Sold, catered, cultivated, uterly violated

As long I stand in the light
Forever shall I be blinded by its brightness
By the subtleness of its domination
The invisbleness of its will
Blind
To the unexceptablness of outcome
Generated in pure inhuman content

But in the darkness, forever brooding
Would the question slowly seep forward
Leaving clouds of doubt to censor the falslight
Shining off a Sun no longer one of its own infinity
No longer
Would my pupils accept the lies it had to send
Or my eyes consent to be eyes, but vessles of site
Eternal and unknown

It would be sounds reverberating through
This darkness, this emptiness of time
Epochs now disconected from land they once owned
That would slowly manifest, Truth never to be shown
Earthly bonds still left intact as a testament against
Would force my being to connect to what its mind rejects
History then flowed through me
Feeble though it may be
Its imperfection is that of our humanity
But it is mine, and it is me
Through blood flowing freely
Though I still could not see
I had began to hear