Love that is dying is neither right nor wrong. The virgin and child-like composition echoes the dying heart. I worship my lust in the flesh. Just as Christ worshipped the Father with the suffering of the flesh, and had mercy on the world. It is not the emptiness of this life that we use our life's greed and desire to give up. You all abandoned me. I abandon the boy's body and worship is not also blurred. In the shrines that go up, and the chants that go up, our door is rising in nothingness, and what is rescued in pain is only unwillingness to climb up in peace.
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