The scent of corruption..

The symbol shall move me more than what it symbolizes

Abstractions would move me more than the real..

The essence of things elude me for the expression excites me..

And I'd rather see my life as a grand design..

"..Maybe a divine plan!

A grand construct!

With the tiniest details building up to a grand crescendo-

And all of this chiseled, indeed, by God himself!.."

But I'll miss life as it occurs-

I'll miss the birds chirping and I'll miss the kids laughing..

I wouldn't be moved by the plight of the man dying on the street..

But a hero dying in an epic would move me-

"..For don't you see! It is beautifully expressed!

He breaks into a heart-rending monologue before he poisons himself!.."

I have thus reduced my world into symbols..

and have thus divorced myself from my world..

With nothing concrete but this vagueness and causeless unease.

And I wouldn't know where this corruption stems from..

When expressions became grand and empty.

When emotions ran dry with my heart thus numbed..

This corruption is tremendous..

It exhilarates me.

Weaving magic..

Weaving magic, my magician and I..

Unraveling our lives-our gods, our lies.

We travel light for we are to travel far..

Leaving no impression, no baggage, carrying no scar..

And I would ask my god-How did I chance upon?

A flower so simple, the freshness of dawn..

I would dance in joy, for how did I greet?

A being so complete, a song as sweet..

Weaving magic, and our tales unfold..

Of warmth, of happiness; of numbness, of cold..

And we greet them all, for there's nothing else to embrace..

but life as she is, with ease and with grace..

And I would bow down in reverence-How could life be?

As kind, as generous, as tremendous to me..

I would dance with my magician, for here we are..

Undistorted and brilliant-in love unscarred..