All This Was Done To Fulfill What Had Been Spoken by the Prophet

In the silver shadowed evening I am returning home. It is late. Under the mirror, under the eerie ambiance of flickering fluorescent lights I am losing myself, like any one of the many millions suffering from demonic and unclean spirits. A sense of rushing through a darkened tunnel. Pale face and half again. 

The plastic power of indiscriminate destruction, psychic visions. Pain is pain. Deeper sleep and everything lost through insecure violence. But with a word, one passionate, joyous word and the vibrant sounds of laughter. 

All who were ill, all the nausea, all the lethargy and memory lapses like fat flies buzzing back into the void. All our weaknesses, all our disease - from the crotch, the belly, the spine. We were clinically dead. Spiritually dead. Drowned and fired. Now new light. Now new life.