The little things I Pray to

(And snippets of a reasoning)

Praise be to Darkness;

Malleable mammoth of might-inducing malice.

Same glee to Solace;

Irreparable labyrinth of light-seducing chalice.

Is he who trots the unknown globe in search of answers pitied for stumbling upon endless legions of questioning?

Has he his dubious motives diluted with the stifling inundation of foreign reckoning?

Thus is the arrangement of Destiny’s cobblestone courier service for the melancholy mammal, lost and found in the turbulence of havoc.

Pushed- No, pulled!

Yes, pulled!

Like the dreamer before the plunge,

Akin to steaming beasts that seethe ’til kingdom comes.

Bearing scars of tribulation’s whiplash, and tales of Terror’s tenants cowering before the torture of their uncertainty-

Certainly nonsensical, or burdening the retinas?

Eyes!

I speak of.

Ears!

I preach for.

Mouths!

I long to silence.

Heads!

Trapped in confinement.

Anatomy’s accordance through the looking glass of pretense, wedded with belief sets- Believe it!

Or disregard.

Options that saunter through the visor of armor’s guarding heart.

So, praise be to imperfection!

Impeccable in proper right.

Same glee to redemption!

Pedestal of ponder’s night.