Sublimation Bloodbath: A Poetic Treatise on the Faith of Living

It’s a sublimation bloodbath out here,

And the only one I’ve murdered is me;

But I’ve heard you gotta give to be free.

Or in technical computer science terms…

              What do ALL the Good Books say?

The whole universe is a slave hard drive,

A host of confusion about primary and secondary

Greater memory of meaning, master communication,

Ghosted onto galaxies in stars.

              Psychologically speaking, a continuum, of

Binary signals clustered into complicated plots

Beyond human comprehensions, allowing projections,

So I can attribute to everything, what is on my mind.

              So ALL the Good Books say, sacrifice

And sublimation, is an essential task in life.

There is no authoritative right in sight

And I’ve got to cut out certainty’s heart,

Dismantle the very bones of clarity.

Offer the choicest morsels of my Ego

And my Id…

To the GREAT MAW of the UNKNOWN,

To the infrared spectrum of invisible truth,

So the light may devour my vagrancies.

              I must slaughter the fatted lamb of knowing,

To dwell in the home the Heavens sent

Between nothing and everything to repent.

It’s a sublimation bloodbath.

              The old kidnapper’s demand,

I've got to cut certainty and just pay the ransom,

If I ever want to be free,

If I ever want to see the rest,

of me, alive again.