Oh, to have not been seen. A blessing and a curse as it is now, as I have been seen, and time may not be reversed.

                To float through life on a breeze of solitude, entangling weary passerby in an essence of which they can never even notice. To watch wistfully the multitudes flit through their selfishness on wings of glory. Whisper hallelujah, hallelujah, our kin be praised.

                Oh to say it, calmly, quietly. Worry not whether your thoughts will harm the egos of your partners, or if the cross by your bedside will fall in utter disappointment. Let me wander through your lips, drink my life and allow me the privilege of drenching every fiber you possess. Feel my spirit, my joy, my disbelief. Rock your cosmos in my rage and in my grief scream out the river through tears of singeing skin. Do it all and let me feel in silence.

                Oh, to have not been seen.

                Slurred in the courtyard, the preacher gathers what he can. Give him your luxury and your escape. Only do not crawl from feasting eyes and fasting stomachs. Lather in this while you can; pray to your God and for your retributions. Let it be a quick release, and that you have saved enough for a blessing and a decent burial complete with headstone.

                Oh to go back to when you were innocent. So small you could barely reach the tabletop, still young enough to enjoy yourself without constantly wondering if your sins would be enough to keep you out of heaven—for your sins were not your own.

                Oh to have not been seen with candles on the altar and your nakedness filling the room. Pentacles in the dirt and you danced, oh how you danced before the eyes of God and Goddess alike. Clap your hands and sing in the songs of the gypsies before your tongue is caught in the stiffness of your teaching. Grin in something that’s at once more than you’ve ever known to have, and your teeth spill from your mouth in such amusement. Watch the mother moon and in this time you are so happy, so free, and in this place you must be safe.

Sunrise finds you in a peaceful slumber, only to be interrupted when they come to take you away to where the gatherings have always been held. A pile of books and a pole in the middle, though you did not need them to tell you what was happening. You allow them to shove you up there and tie the coarse ropes just a bit too tight, and you look down somberly upon those who just the day before had trusted your Faith. And the fire, God how the flames have become your enemy, the sting of so much heat becoming cold. You drop out of life in such a tired hopeless state, ready to let their Devil have his way with you.

Join me, join me before the passing rips you away from this place forever.

Ethereal fingertips reach out on the winds to brush the tears from their cheeks and coax the laughter from their bellies. We rush into the waves of thought and find ourselves inside the minds of unwary passerby, and you finally understand the meaning of the soul. Soak into their skin and encourage them to laugh away in a drunken fit and sing, oh hear them sing in bells of splendor: whisper hallelujah, hallelujah, our kin be praised.