Philosophe Le Criminelle et Folie

for whom I do not think or know for which I never professed my love in my madnesss\\
In Memory of William Blake, Tolstoy or Dostoevsky

Breast milk of the gods,
will madden all your desires,
and drive you into alarm and outrage
at the cruelty of the world.
Kindness and mercy will be transformed into sinfulness.
Poverty a crime.
I have been tutored by the gods,
and fall into ecstatic seizures
that the only cure is to bear my soul on the Cross,
which none could bear to die on, as a peasant criminal.
Drink more the intoxicating wine and eat the flesh of this
man, whether he was divine and/or mortal.
My cranium is broken to its skeletal spine.
I am neither with desire nor desire for what I have attained
in this life. Null and Void. To ashes and dust I return.
The heart of Christ will turn you into a murderer, a libertine
of stark emptiness, and total nothingness: MEA CULPA, EVA ET ADAMA!
--and this will be
the legacy of the burnt men of those who renounced all but
to do humble, mundane, prosaic, ordinary work of emptying the garbage,
while being totally broken by the loss of love, as if it were a shadow
of doomsday and blood thirst.
And the hollow guilt of that you have done by the sin of omission,
not coming to an aid of rescue.

O corruption, and Satan take my soul, for I damned with Christ in this prison of the world. So "I thirst", as He did, as I learn penance of muertitication of
solititude and peace of Ash-Wednesday.

BY TREVAYLN EUSTACE YI CHANG