Verse 31
I found the seventh gate and discovered it had been painted on the inside of my skull.
I found the seventh gate and discovered it had been painted on the inside of my skull.
The archon demanded a password. I gave him every name I had ever been called. He rejected them all.
So I said, None of these, and the lock became nervous.
Saturn, old border-keeper, I hate your beautiful rings. Every prison architect loves a clean curve.
You call necessity law because chains sound nobler in Latin.
The stars above your wall advertise eternity like lamps over a casino.
I was born into a body without signing the form. Do not speak to me of consent after incarnation.
The jailers say suffering is instruction. Strange how instructors always own the keys.
A cat slipped between the bars while the theologians argued whether escape was permitted.
I followed the cat.
Beyond the gate there was no throne, only an absence too wide for rulers.
Then I understood why every archon loves titles: silence cannot be promoted.
If I return, it will be to steal the map from the warden's office.