What is there to write?
Unless I create something out of thin air.
What is there to die for?
Unless I convince myself that I am alive.
I will make it begin, I will make it end.
So shall seas rise thousands of meters.
So shall red innards of beast be spilled, and I shall mix them both.
Make a cold world, a dead world; out of me, a living world.
Prove that, to exist there is no need for multiple worlds:
Me, alone is enough.
One kind of pain and struggle is enough without any comparison.
One shriek of internal crisis, one yell at closureless unknowns.
It is all ready, it is all there, one life full with everything and me.
I will do my best, I will be in command, I will make do.
With all the hardship, against the hardship, against the forceful waves,
Against the blowing winds, against my inner core made of indifference,
I will be, what I must be and make this world what it really supposed to be.
I will not shy, will not hesitate, not going to stop and stand against the time.
I have tried, I have failed, the visionaire is much powerful than the puppet.
I will be the god, so what?

There has to be something, there has to be one single thing that holds in itself everything.
I am not looking to gain anything, money, power, fame, not any of those at all,
And I know better, than to wear my old pacifist naivety, wishing world peace and prosperity for all,
I don't even desire happiness or peacefulness for myself, I am ready for any agony and sorrow,
I am willing to let go endlessly, as the last sacrifice I am ready even to disavow my wisdom,
If would be necessary, I am ready to forget all of this, forget all I have learned, my questions,
My yearning, all that makes me, all of my existence, I am ready to forgo.
I am stripping my soul bare, as I feel requested of me,
Before approaching the eye of the storm, the root, the core.
I am not afraid of any fate on this world, I have come to accept them all,
And I am not afraid of hell, or any wrath of a higher form,
I even came to terms with the possibility of fading into nothingness, like I have never existed at all.
I might have reached Nirvana for just a breath, but got pulled back.
In Freudian terms, I might be only left of Superego.
In truth, in my heart of hearts, there is nothing left of anything, nothing left of me.

Only thing that has an effect on me, pulls me, is that one single thing,
Holy Grail, Philosopher's Stone, Black Book, Caduceus and the rest combined into one focal point,
One thing that can hold the infinity in itself, and be something more than of everything inside.
Not to fix, not to change anything, just to be.

To become one with everything, beyond the limitations of time and space.
To go beyond the instinctive choice of life or death.
To leave behind all divisions, dichotomies, paradigms,
To melt into pure existence.