Desolation, my home
a plain devoid of any shape or form
it is a place i have become all too familiar with
i charge all who come upon this
understand
this is the explicit chronicle of what many would call my soul
of the gift that was given to me that may never be truly be stripped away
realize
i am among the blessed few
for to me was given the greatest power known to us
i have been given Love
and much like the fabled subdeities of Christianity
the angel who givith unto me is also commanded to take from me
so must it be, i suppose, in order to retain a balance
although balanced is the one word that is forbidden in my descriptions
i am the demon, and i have been blessed
promoted to a damned soul
now my suffering is justified, and i do not mind
i have gained the peace of mind
that only comes to those who know that they will suffer hells most savage torments
and those who know they deserve them
i am the murderer who begs to be executed
to end my own ravages of humankind
because i know that in pain there is cleansing
so i give myself again,  as i have before, to be hurt
because i know that in the brief moment that my gift was bestowed
the same brief moment when it was wrenched from my grasping hands
i became whole
so i beg you, my fellows
understand, and
forgive me
for i know not what i do
only what i have done
twenty-twenty vision in hindsight
i will seek to use what i have been taught well
i will seek to prevent my previous mistakes from becoming
my current mistakes
in this moment i dedicate this
my chronicle of joy and sorrow
to my angel, my saint
who was wrenched from my grasping hands
and is now beyond my reach
the cycle of my dogma is complete
i can but pray it continues as before
but faith is a lie
to her and to all i say hello
as to her and to all i bid
farewell
 
 

Copyright Robert Johnson 1998, all rights reserved.