Puffing onto the stick of mind;

Racking my brain for signs of blasphemy,

The doleful look, spreading across my serene facade -

Juxtaposing me with the point blank oblivion.

Kiss me with thy faithful lips -

For there is that, which rots with the scum of thoughts,

Hold me with thy naive grip -

For there is one, sneaking its way into obscurity.

I want to be saved.

I want to be resurrected.

I want to feel alive.

Reach the point of understanding,

To breathe again.

The horizon buoyed up with rationality,

Surrounding illuminated with understanding,

Logical comprehensions sliding into its rightful place,

The obscured dejectibility materializing into agnostic skepticism.

I am saved.

I am resurrected.

I feel alive.

I breathe again.

Into the ecstatic state of understanding