Veritas
What I’m supposed to be is a wordslinger, a son of that tribe of men
conversant with the strange secrets of the universe, an oracle in the
wilderness acquainted with the esoteric voices that spring from God’s
vast belly, a hierophant who brings the great unwashed closer to the
sacred and arcane truths of the cosmos.
What I’m supposed to be
is a storysmith, a Zen musician of mortal emotions, a connoisseur of
the spirit, a warrior-poet who drinks from the cup of life deeper than
most of my brethren, who intimately experiences humanity, who
understands what makes us rapt or wretched or divine or damned.
What I’m supposed to be. The truth is much more sober.
