Now that I have retrieved scenes from an underworld,
ancient men wasting in sand while crying for Jehovah,
and I have come to know I AM THAT I AM,
you are not here in the flesh.
Like a titan splintered to so many parts
you must traverse the sky, climb upward
until you become some signal light in the sky.
Where is the signpost of stars that marks your mind,
that declares to every person that here
was no humble one, but in a paradox of scienter
more like a prophet who somehow saw
what others would do?
You were not guarded with your words.
You let them fly like honest missiles
and they struck many who did not know.
Those words harmed those who could not know enough
to pray to become even a modern Philistine.
Tonight we will brandish triumphs
like swords still slick from the blood
from these battles that only the devoted could fight.
When we hold these triumphs at a certain angle
the light will reflect its violent, glancing blow
back to the celestial nation where you will know
that we have done things here.
Your teeth will not be stained to dark blood
by the burgundy that we imbibe now.
But in that perfect parallel above the stars
you taste the complete origin of our drink.
Now a close neighbor to the Trinity,
citizen of the city of pure forms,
you can see how you have helped,
and what has been accomplished.
and what has been accomplished.