The Lucid Lapse: One

But the drinker is still pure
and of unstained whiteness
even though they can no longer drink us
now rotting, sickly humans
former spiritual saints
who did not roar at ourselves
day after day, night after night
as the night becomes day
in the eyes of the drinker
nothing obstructs the rightly judgmental sight
of the knowledgeable drinker
for the drinker eats no longer
and sleeps no longer
for they sustain life through the willing
consumption of hot spiritual soup
as if they are married to the purity
of the soup's humanly essences
and the lack of righteous perfume
and the presence of the most human heart
imperfect, but not inhuman
for the drinker has understood it all
since the beginning of time
that the married human and the drinker
used to be two words
but the married human only looks at their
perfect heart
as we approach their prideful, icy heart
we realize that it has only one vein
and no arteries
to contain the heart with perfection
and to not waste any contained perfection
for the married human is perfect
in every way that is conceived by them
and them alone
while the drinker continues drinking
their spiritual soup of humble humans
of truly enlightened humans
but what about us
we are trapped in the married human's heart
and will forever be a mere memory
temporarily resurfacing for unreal air
as the married human continues to trick
all the other progressive humans
into their sea of light
but what about us
we are but a memory
to be reminisced during a lucid lapse
to be forgotten for convenience
will the spiritual soup ever have its last drop
will the drinker ever be sick of soup
but what about us
we are not even part
of the married human's perfect dreams
their heart has no place for us
if they were to ever love us
adultery, it's a sin against progression
the world needs to be married to ideas
and convenience is what kills us all
and it is only during that time
when the married human finally looks
at the spiritual soup
and becomes a drinker, eternal bliss
but what about us?

- End