Pain

Pain is good!

Lashing in waves against a beach of broken limbs,

Strings of broken shells that once held pearls, riding on the

Waves of life, eddying swirls, ebbing and flowing, glowing and surging

Up in defiance of Jove's

Thunderous bolts,

Around the sempiternal lighthouse of

Love: the flawed animus that turns the world.

Pain is Life.

Of broken promises; infernal

Obligations to the waters and the blood from His riven side

Of shattered dreams,

That flowed in carmine rivers down

Golgotha, over valleys of rattling bones,

To mingle His Passion, deep with the

Darkly dreaming mysteries of the 

Seven seas.

Pain is Love.

Pain is in all;

In the sledgehammer crashing on baubles of transient bliss;

Pain is in the severed umbilical cord,

In the tangled masses of blue-black stillborn songs.

Pain is in the turbulent air,

In the watery grave of lost sailors' souls;

In the blazing flames of the forest's vengeance;

In the clinging earth around nimble feet!

Pain is the jeweled key to the prison locks we forge for

Our very own splendid golden cages.

Pain is Truth!