Seemingly dark. No lights, no windows. In hours of solitude his eyes
grew custom to the black. Blindness became a world of delineation, as
silhouettes became the rulers of the world. Objects were their shadows as his dark side too evolved. Caliginous began the sable revolution as his brain played vulnerable to the inevitable mutiny of peccant existence. With every tear, every exagerated weep of anger, his light dimmed. And as his world was raped of illumination, his soul was inspired with it. An Edifacation for happiness. The bright iniquity that consumed his now acquiescent anima drew itself from confinement with a capricious parturition! The rebirth of man exists now in the rise of pernicious might. He is the river in the the canyon, the relentless wind
against the immovable mountain. He is the feeling of hate and revenge, belittled by a human instinct to counter act invinisblity, reformed and ignited with the fuel of understanding. Bound no more by the pathetic restraints of morality, he can achieve prepotency over a vast universe of imperfection. Delusional and dangerous he rises to his feet, flooding the room with unbalance as he unveils the sun. Through the mirrior his eyes are brilliant. A cold blue that traps your conscience in trust and hope. His presence is dignified and clean. An ambassador of heaven would look no more angelic than his welcoming smile. But as the light dances throught he room revealing what is real and beautiful, and good, he is blind to the innocence and all he can see is his shadow.