Breathing in and out in song, lungs burning, set alight by the power of Your names. Bewitched. In this life, as in a time beyond remembrance, led forward by the son of Vasudeva and seduced by the black goddess of Dakshineshwar.
I asked, make me a solemn sovereign over myself, and only myself. A kingdom of one, an army of one. A realm, not larger than the body of a man. And to help others to rule over themselves, to establish kingdoms of their own. I would wear my crown with no less dignity than Alexander.
Once seated upon the throne, I ask, what will you do now, maggot, where will you hide? How to live without my life force? Where will you find better, to leach on to?
I had cut my own arm to feed that snake without it biting, but I learned. No trespassing in my world. And so I track you down trough the fields of my soul, and I drag you out by the ankle. Starved, you ask for food.
None will be given.
Worm, you will never eat from my corpse again.
As you will never see me die again.