Bliss Is Perfection, Bliss Is Nothing


Is a dream

That floats

Above my head

In the sky

Reaching past heaven


It is said

That angels possess

This miraculous trait

On pure feathers

Of bliss

That have no knowledge

Of the evils of man


It is said

And so I believe

That to reach it

I have to

Scratch the very sky

Bending memory

To become

A blank slate

With ignorant sweet mist

Crowding my thoughts

To nothing


I need to learn

To forget what I know

As it weighs me down

To this Earth

I need to become lighter

Then air

I need to soar

On the lightest breeze

I need to be



The pure white handkerchief

Before the stain

Of something

Has reached it

Re-stitching my being

Into pure light


Writing down

My whole life

Everything bad

Everything good

Into a book

The book

Is now

Has now

My life

Thrown into the sea


Which has washed the pages


Rubbing salt

And applying soft water


Now I

No one

Now I am


I am clean

I don’t know of evils

Or good

All I know

Is bliss



Wishing to know

But on a final scrap

Washed from the sea

It says


The end

Is the word

Pulled from my mouth

And into the pure clouds

Off the Earth

To be





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