Mans' Ambrosia

Mans' Ambrogia

Vermilion eyes pageant within our hearts, glaring through our inhibitions, traipsing among our provocations. Waiting for the moment of liberation...

Looking for a sign...

Symbols are all around us, tempting our calling, validating our bravado.
Freeing our cause and giving us purpose.... Thereby chance is given,
evolving with our pampered imagination.... Though despite this sonant
grandeur, our choice is braying unforgiven..

Allowing for the beguilement of renascence, and cleaving your false confession

As sure as your benediction's aged, breathe is given further unto your
omission, espying fear through subliminal streams. Meanwhile, you
choose to level with conspiracy while harboring your assiduous guilt.
Alas, before your eyes, it is with no great zeal that you defend
your progress...

Remiss,
your compliment of valor congeals

No more can it be said that your eyes see more than veil a covert
intention.... To bear witness to a callow demon's indenture. Forgone
this hopeful union of becoming more through skillful embroidery and
external divination. Thereby, you're too distracted to gain from
this subtle wisdom...

A new willingness breeds, to commit to an effort of ranging vertigo
branding your self-awareness.... An undertaking belaying further
attempts at self-incrimination.

Held in contention, this new purpose plays to shadow your truth.... Pray, that none too soon your eyes have turned, gaining your first conviction. Lured to end as august and vigilant, yon Sentinel.

And in light of your great enlightenment, your entitlements purge your familiar regret, devouring your passive torment..... For only then can you impossibly concede, that you're everything human.