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Sanctum Sanctorum |
Follow me. Take my hand and we can fly. Oblivion, never as sweet Transcendence, never as fragile as our holy freefall, our esoteric shrug of surrender into the shelter of Sanctum Sanctorum, halfway between home and eternity. Your question? Bring it. I know the place where wonder is created. Knock, and the door will open. Ask, and you will receive, wholly. Your bittersweet redemption eclipsed only by the anguish of your prolonged confinement. Hope with me. Let me show you, tenderly, how shadows are illuminated and treachery is forgotten. Behold, again, the brilliance of a soul as murkiness recedes, as despair unravels. The human condition reversing, trembling as it yields to the embrace of a sacred Valhalla. by Lorraine Sautner |
© Copyright 2003 by Lorraine Sautner