Benign Sanity

Desire.

It will drive a sane man into the gnarled hands of insanity,

and he will insist on staying there.

Aloud he will always denounce his madness,

Knowing the fine line he walks,

Good and Evil

Love and Hatred

Yet he dances upon the line as though it matters naught,

For his desires lead him into bloodied nights and dark days.

I once asked such a man why he does it. In his madness he spoke,

"We live for the struggle, yet we feel no progress.

Upon idled hands, we measure the times between lashing,

Secretly praying for them to come sooner than later, just to fill the time.

Death is but a sweet embrace that we await. 

It is my weekdays.

It is my weekends.

It is my meaning.

To live is to die. Once we are dead, we truly understand life."

And as he continued to dance upon the line,

I was changed.

No longer was I living to fight.

I wanted to die.

I wanted to surrender all worldly things for my freedom.

I wanted her.

She, which made my heart throb with wild passion.

She, that filled me with adolescent embarassment.

In an instant I found myself with her.

Embraced by her madness,

Watching as my own filled her.

Accepting death,

We danced upon the line that divided animals from humanity

And in our madness, we found peace.