In front of the world I sit, crowd in silence, waiting for my coldness to ease their heat, yes in patience. My father’s legacy they think I intend to wear, my father’s words they expect to hear; so to the throne of Hood they made me a heir, not knowing I have my own paper to tear.
I am so blind but my mind is a seer. If the preying elites see my mind, they would tremble in fear. They would think i’m racing to order the years to murder their peers, but fortunately more; it’s neither the name that I bear nor the armour that I wear that summoned the gods to care; Shakespeare never wrote King Lear when my destiny, aye, when my purpose was planted like an avocado pear.
There were nine gates, eighteen dates, thirty-six fates on seventy-two slates in different spiritual states, yet one hundred and forty-four mates to come with mirrors enclosed within the astral plates. I tortured a princess while the queen was snoring; I kissed the devil when the quest was boring. Who would have known that a lotta heads are empty and to nothingness they are hurrying? Yet the we the lucky suffer, such a stressful calling. I fought a Gordon in whose tummy an eye blinked; I grew a horn in whose tip light blinked; dragons bathed me in blood and fire, i never flinched; I came victorious and to adeptry i was winched.
I approached the confines of death; and having trodden on the threshold of Proserpina, returned, having been carried through all the elements. In the depths of midnights i saw the sun glittering with a splendid light, together with the infernal and supernal gods, and to these divinities approaching, i paid the tribute of devout adoration and was marked eLuminous.
I remember no beginning, i see no end, man would believe what he accepts to believe, pitiably in his darkness. Globally embracing a human theory does not make such theory valid; time is nothing, at least to us.