And the Twilight Shimmered.

“Lies are a thief in the night,
cradle-snatchers that whimper in their blood-drenched chains,
and the truth is but a thrice-broken bone, snapped again.

Humility is a coward's
cross
deserved.

Let all the men who fall down,
never rise
again.”

So I tell me.

“But let all who rise step up,
then
down.
But let all who rise step up,
then
down.
For the first will be last,
and remain forgotten
in the kingdom of Heaven.”

So the world tells me.

But where am I in this Divine Queue?
I am told that I am kind; am I the first?
(But if I am the first, am I not the last?)
But I wish to be confident; am I not the last?
(But if I am the last, am I not the first?)
Or do I float in space,
a particle of dust,
deserving of dust and so mating with dust,
to create super-dust?

So the world tells me.
Ye inhumane, Horrible World.

I thirst to be the First of the Worldly Queue,
so I can stand as Last of the Heavenly Queue.
I thirst to be known as the First, to be lifted on others' shoulders as the First,
inside a godly palanquin for all the Firsts,
but
yet
I know
I
FEEL
that I AM the morning dew, soon
to be swallowed by the begging flower, not
known as anything else
but the morning dew
swallowed
by the begging flower.
And so the Last shall be First.
And the Thirst. shall be last

To be swallowed by the begging flower.
To be swallowed, not chewed.
Is this where my talent leads me.
To be swallowed by the begging flower.
To be swallowed, not tasted.
Is pain the effort of the grimly happy?

What of the Twilight…
The Twilight, with its streaks of soft and simple
Nectar, infused with soft and simple Gold,
bleeding the colors of Life.
Life that is Beautiful.
Life that is Soft.
Life that is Grandiose.
Life that is New.

But the First shall be Last and the Last shall be Thirst.
So the Heaven tells me.
For the Thirst shall be Thirst and the Thirst shall be Thirst.
Even Divinity is consumed by Hierarchy.
Ye inhumane, Horrible Hierarchy.

O, what Twilighted talent is it I speak of?
Is it, truly, my heart?
Or is it a kidney? A liver?
Or is it the air?
Air that is seamless; without end, but with no beginning, either.
O, do not tell me.
I know it is air.
(You liar!)
O,
do not tell me,
(You're all liars!)
I know it is air.

I AM
to be swallowed by the begging flower.
I AM
talent that is the sighing air.
I AM I am.
I AM
no escape.
I AM
the begging flower.
I AM
no escape.
I AM
the Thirst.
And the Thirst shall be Last.
And the Last shall be Thirst.

Even Divinity is consumed by Hierarchy.
Ye inhumane, Horrible Divinity.

But at the time of Twilight...
Oh, have you seen the Twilight...
It was there, in the Time of Twilight,
planted on its painted sky,
painted with Nectar...
It was there, in the Time of the Twilighted...

I thirst to be the First too much.
(Or is it the Last?)
Twilight is so far away now,
if it was ever near.
But Twilight...but Twilight...

I lie to myself.
(Who am I?)
I lie to you.
(Who are you?)
I lie to others.
(Whom?)
Catch me own whatever face that pleases me;
(Whom?)
I will be the dew,
I will be the Thirst.
Or am I neither?
(Whom?)
Or am I all?
(Whom?)
Be a dear,
(Be a what?)
and when you figure it out,
tell me.
(Who am I?)

I lie to myself.
Twilight stills beckons...
I lie to myself.
Or was it ever near?
I lie to myself.
I hide behind an iron curtain
of self-tyranny, self-neglect.
I hide.
I feel the curtain reach with thousand-plated tentacles,
and I feel the iron clench my throat.
I HIDE.
I DIE-H.
But though I strangle -
the knife is mine.
But though I strangle -
I die of blood-loss.
(As will you.)

I FEEL
that my blood is free.
But if
I FEEL
does that mean
I THINK
and if
I THINK
does that mean
I AM?

But...in the Time of Twilight...
Oh, was it ever never air!
But...in the Time of Twilight...
Oh, was it ever truly there!

Let's just shut up.
In the coffin of the iron curtain.
Feel the death of the memory that is the Twilight.
Feel the tentacles bind and chain and tear off our necks.
Feel the knives of self-tyranny tickle our flesh.
Feel our own blood be conquered
by our own hands.

But.

I AM TO BE SWALLOWED.

In the Time

I AM TALENT THAT IS SIGHING AIR

Of Twilight

AM NO ESCAPE

I

AM

Think.

A THIEF IN THE NIGHT

I

AM

shimmered.

But.
At The Time.
of.
Twilight.
I.
Think.
I shimmered.

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