Deceleration

Shades of Seasons will be published.

It has to be published.

I will publish it myself and sell it if I have to.

I'm hanging on a thin thread and gasping for air while trying to not loose the last visages of sanity that is remaining.

Every last prattled word will have meaning that you never it could have.

There will be no end to this and every turn you perceive as a disappointed failure will be yet another victory I will turn around to destroy you with.

There is no end in sight because every line is sightless, every thought pattern is interconnected to the overwhelming presence of absolute truth and you will not, I repeat, will not and never bring me down and destroy that which was preordained.

I may simply be the clay vessel that will be broken and sprinkled out across this world but the word will live on, the message will live on despite your interference since the garden.

Do what you will with your forked tongue and bite deep on my veins and spread thy venom as you will. I welcome you closer so that I might shove the dagger of absolution of all sin deeper into your spine.

His will be done and may you suffer in your eternal night of despondent regret.