I Know not the Meaning of Pleasure; Only Fortitude in my Indignation

I know not the meaning of pleasure; only fortitude in my indignation.

Why can we not see what passion has at its loss. We can only know its true nature through becoming a victim first, and a trained soldier second.  We collapse in uniformity, predicated by conformity.  We know not the meaning of individuality, yet those that strive to, do eventually achieve this said nature. Of and through a natural cause, we go and we see and we love. We know not what we do, and what we do is not of the essence. We go through turmoil and tumultuous advancements in order to survive this begotten throne. We will ourselves for naught, and exhaust all good will from the onslaught. With this, we are wrought with fear – of the unknowing. We are undignified in our mannerisms of our portrayal of self-worth, yet we show ourselves to be worthy in a manner of speaking. We understand that we need to become all that is in existence. We need to complete all that we came here to do, we want to complete this term with endearment. By way of satisfaction can we hold true to our existence for microcosmic and macrocosmic unifications of forces of sorts. We come in all glory to pursue this non justification of per diem countenances that abide by us and that are abided by us in order to suffice to say that we are equal in our arbitrary imbalance – opposite but equal as we see fit to use the body we were given for darkness and not the light. We are true to ourselves when we are all knowing of the outcome of not speaking in full truth about ourselves – yet, we still do it. We still beckon the call of the dark wilderness [wild darkness] for we know too which form it takes. We must take on the indignation for the support of our real yet trivial selves. For the unity among the whole by which the unification of the internal duality of the individual is what is incited for the lifetime. We must prevail.