Ask & accept “Who Am I?”

Existence

Let me ask you to consider this…
There is no destiny, only questions –
The rise and fall of a heartbeat inside its bony cage
As time drops into nothingness while lips form syllables; breath meeting sound…
Dispensing with pleasantries to bite truth –
Chewing illusions until spitting their bloody pulp into storm clouds, hurling fast…
Rattling with ominous caverns –
Can life be alive… stunning… worthwhile without questioning our mechanics?
Will the dark smother the light? Will the pain of truth destroy? Has it shattered you yet?
The truth is. Always. You’ve always known but chosen to ignore…
Shards of glass, razor wire, nails, needles, rope and fire, what else? Name your haunts –
But caress inquisition beneath your dark, heavy robes
As you’re pointing viperous words to redirect –
But will you go mad without a reflection?
Spinning eyes of fire as curiosity burns…
This is where we find ourselves –
Kiss our demons sweetly and take hammer to stone, through withered palms and cloven hooves –
Nail their existence into that solid mass…
A temple… Within… A reminder that light spills through cracks, into darkness
To deny our demons is to deny our loathsome, lethal, dark beauty –
And to set those demons loose upon the innocent, including ourselves –
To view the damage those demons sow onto others through a veil, woven of the tears we reap
And the clouds storm
Roll in with their menacing caverns…
Carry death into dreams…
Shadows that inhale the purity of the soul –
Wring the light, the innocence, the divinity from its eternal form –
Wrap their lean, bony appendages around its shriveled remains, and stuff it deep into their desecrated recesses –
Where it weeps memories in reverse –
In their dead playground…
A loop in black and white –
Sans grey…
Littered water with the barren bodies of crows. Shhh. They can’t speak anymore –
Although their eyes know your secrets –
Their wings unfurl your deception
Wind whispers through sticky feathers of madness in soft form, ready to harden beneath a harsh, baking sun
The trees reek of lead –
There is no shade here
Only pockets of sideways perception, strapped onto a wildfire of stars sliding into an aphotic hole of unfathomable depth
Shimmery points sucked from their centers, shattering like ceramic toothpicks
So let me ask you to consider this…
Will you ask yourself to peel the skin and show the bones?
Will you ask the bones to crack and the veins to bleed?
Will you ask the heart to suffer and the mind to spew? —
Your angels and your demons
Your anguish and your joy
The purity and innocence
The deceptions and perversions
The truth?