Of Wisdom and Acquiescence

I should be a very wise man. Perhaps I am. I know I am driven to understand more and there is no limit to that drive. Sensation overwhelms me and I could weep for the exquisite beauty of it all. Even as it kills me. At one and the same time to see it and want to place it on a pedestal where it can be safe from all the dirt that life has to throw ... and also to cut it apart further and feel the warm wet slickness up to my elbows.
Something so simple as a beautiful woman, a Tuchuk slave. Her inhibitions slaughtered and peeled away. She is the epitome of female beauty and desire. Arrogance come to acquiescence at your feet.
And yet as much as I may dream and conspire against Life, Life still delivers its cutting blows that leave the scars that mark me as a warrior. I am better, I am stronger, I am wiser. I am the bones beneath the flesh that rots .... and I may not be the man who has seen the light, I may not be the man who announces himself with the sound of trumpets and horns, but I am real. And I don't look for perfection. I don't look for the light. I simply want someone to live beneath my hand, thrive beneath my wisdom, grow beneath my guidance .... and think of me when I am not around.