This i say...

To: The Great one.

Your anger and frustrations have moulded me to become a fearing Man, fearing my own desires and thoughts. The day of correction is a day when the moon will shine with sun all together at once, that which is known to be me will perish and the roots of my soul shall appear on the surface as bear as the lies which I held as absolute truth in the bosom of my treacherous heart. 

When the great one descend to my level to test all the left overs in my strength I will fear no more, I will let go the cravings of your tender member which rests on my foolishness that has buttoned down all my godly inheritance and casted me down to the by-ways and the low-ways to scavenge on the decaying waists of the superficial idiots who are misled by the flesh. 

On the question about the mark on my forehead I will tell that it is an imprint from your make-up, that mixture of illicit oils and impure powder, diluted and applied to the natural skin to hide the mirror imperfections and the vulnerability of a lame human reflective print and an evaporating spirit heated by the desire to be like the other – the prostituted foreign image of beauty which is always for sale.

Given a chance I will tell of the fork you stacked in my heart which punched many holes that lead to delightful tears, my heart bled profusely. The pain is in my memory because I don’t want to forget that feeling of being with you, I will tell of that feeling of waking up next to you and knowing my entire world is here next to me. Your love and your passion has turned me into a fearing man, fearing leaving a day without remembering how it all felt.

I will also write about my failures, it will be on a clean slate; it will all be in past tense and on the very top i will write a new future date. If you will not recognise my hand writing then you shall be certain that my sense of belief has changed, my mind is no longer mine, my heart has seized to roam the past and the future, my soul is well rested under the everlasting shade and that my spirit has journeyed forward to the source.

Your anger and frustrations have moulded me to become a fearing Man, fearing my own desires and thoughts.

Next time we meet you will realise the missing eye, do not feel sorry for me it was for a worthy course. It was an eye that refused to see, its vision was misaligned and out of specifications. With one eye I can only see one thing…you!

From: The one.