The Cult of Minimalism

"He goes naked or wears the shroud of a corpse, he covers himself in the ashes of the cremation ground" (Aghori, perfection of the lord Shiva)

Man survived the fluxus of perfection/
by avoiding perfection itself/
and shrouding his inability to understand perfection/
with the fake measures of "perfection" as a term/
constructed by the human mind/
What once used to be a Tower of Ivory
now is a cathedral that bleeds impurity-
impurity of reason,

Defiler of comprehension/
Sovereign of wannabe philosophical manifestations/
Pseudo-social tamer of disbelief/

we strangle our infant of creativity,
in order to pretend "perfection"/
And our saliva is that of a snail/
its trail depicts the majority of thoughts/ we left unfinished,
dreams unrealised/

It's all because we crowned you the monarch,
you, a Crippled Messiah of Make-Believe
Why do we have to spread our will in fields of Theory
while we only need to ACT?
Your bonds are rotten,
your chain of breaths is weak, I'm the weakest link,
and I command you to choke,
choke like a motherfucker,
choke like an old and dirty elephant,
bleeding from its trunk,

and I swear/
I'll strangle myself with you.