(Pluto among other stars, always has this terrifying amor, being associated with the darkest sides and pure transformation energy. And with its late discovery by mankind as compared to other planets close to the Sun, how can we make it fit in, make it feel home. Below are the outcries of Pluto within us.)
It’s the silence in the conversion you are nervous about the most,
Not rooted in the disease to please,
But on the contrary, you have felt those moments are the loudest, and you are forced to straighten up with your ears sticking out for all whispers.
Whispers of that few forbidden pages in each of us,
Whispers of all those subtle curiosities, to peek, to sneak, to pry.
Whispers of the conclusions they have drawn, the focal point of theirs in the last sentence you left, the judgment they have come to.
Crack will be a tell,
How can you show hell to them?
And render who you really are.
For it will terrify them, not about what you are in nature, but knowing that the safe deposit they have crafted, has been exhaled and decrypted by themselves in the air between you and them.
And what is that to you.
You will be isolated by many of them, only to be left with those possessing the heart of child within.
Solitude is a fine atonement, which you couldn’t agree with more.
You couldn’t take it anymore with all that are displayed from the overwhelming noises, for you are not a saint yourself.
You are proven to have a questionable nature, you can be enchanted by the dangerous game, and without the civilized coat attached to your skin, you wonder, and you worry if you will eventually disappear in the wild-fire under the blood-red sky, being your ultimate corruption.
Whether forgiveness and grace are obtainable for you? Well, certainly not in that exact moment that the devil has smiled among the silence.
Then will it be rewarded after the struggle?
Pfff, as if we care.
The detrimental game that is being triggered by the silent narratives, and which we have involved in are essentially the beauty of punishment, the unveiling of nature’s ruthlessness, where the flesh and blood are more meaningful and poetic when used in paying homage to Lucifer.
So where is the place for us in this world?
Are there still hopes for us while dancing with Lucifer but not to make us the example of what to be executed on earth.
Can the ones who hear the symphony woven by all the sins, still have a chance to witness what God sees in us anyway.
Can Lucifer still go back to the Olympian Mountain?
Only not the same Lucifer, not the same heaven.