Path Of Unknowing Poem by Philip Emmanuel Penaflor

I saw you naked through the blur of the nightmarish future,
enkindling the flame of a hopeless desire which had become
a dead fantasy, a banal devotion of the past;
for there are visions that shall never come to be.
The sullied passion lies hidden trapped potency unknown.

A disfigured obsession had conceived itself into the blank wall;
You were there, an isolate star of an impotent present
dusk of pessimism.

Yet dawn is but a hallucination of time.
The sediments of an unfiltered reason flows through
a barren philosophy, tracing an illusion.

I walked through the path where you have left your footprints, searching for dead men's illusions which had conquered your philosophy; or was it the
philosophies of dead men which had conquered your illusion?
Till I can walk your path no more.

Your dreams are but the bones and ashes of the past;
or are they just the scrupulous idealism of your future?
Then let yourself be crucified between an incarnation and
a resurrection, but I'll walk on, through the dust where you
may never come to understand a philosophical disillusion.