From a supplication without response, the essence of man, his ground
giving way, comes illumination by a sun of great evil that sets aflame the
inner core and enthrones suffocation and the intolerable without respite as
the joyful reward for a million aborted truths, this silence that among all
man has charged with sacred horror, it becomes sovereign, in repugnant
nativity, and detaches itself from the bonds which paralyze a vertiginous
movement towards the void. Breathless ecstatic experience, it opens the
horizon a bit more, this wound of God; it is the assassination of the abyss of
possibilities, the depths of being left to holy vultures.
Such monstrous impurity, and this incessant piety, no less revolting, cried
out to heaven and they bore an affinity to God, inasmuch as only utter
darkness can be likened to light. |
