The lugubrious wanderings of unfortunate souls.

John 17:1-5

Jesus Prays to Be Glorified
17 After Jesus said this, he looked toward heaven and prayed:

“Father, the hour has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you. 2 For you granted him authority over all people that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him. 3 Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. 4 I have brought you glory on earth by finishing the work you gave me to do. 5 And now, Father, glorify me in your presence with the glory I had with you before the world began.”
Jesus is a character who ran into the foggy alleys of the city of defunct theological meaning in order to "pray" to nothingness without having the power to prove the existence of this silent "god" because he fell into the abyss of non-existence, hence the impossibility of making the mind travel in the "memory of a knowledge acquired in a previous life", in Platonic reminiscence.
If the invocation from the depths of the ages is not even capable of stumbling upon a distant memory of a knowledge prior to existence on earth, it is because the character "god" and his "prophets" and "apostles" are a subject of destruction and not a subject of knowledge, it is a notion that wanders in the mists of a mind separated from the Soul from the beginning experiencing the bewilderment of meaning in the confused paths of the non-existence of "god".
In the depths of the blind shadows dances the smog of notions hidden by the spittle of tears blackened by the asphalt of the ambiguous arteries of childhood chosen to be the beginning of the visions - shimmering in the vessels of the awakened consciousness of a Soul that experienced the suffering of the spirit in the face of the enigmas of the virtues buried in the mists of notions imprisoned in books and manu-script-s, a conscious Soul that sought to see in the blindness of willed shadows the distant silhouette of a free virtue that lives.
Harsh chastity covering itself with the asphalt of the lost city of virtuous senses, of spirits eternally celibate by empathy and of tomb-bodies bearing the -dir-ty tar of debauchery, the "holy wife" of "priests" and "popes", Mrs. Church-the prostitute, erased by recognized immoralities and gratified crimes, oh the great prize of the best crime committed! murder, prostitution´-or-begging and laundering of rotten money.
Characters spinners of rainy lies, of the vaunted character of the prostitute who must be paid, Mrs. Church the prostitute must reap the rotten fruits of her debauchery-trade of a night ballad where the sense of any virtue fell on the evidence of the immorality sought, where the knowing Soul swept away the illusion of any morality to be met on the way of notions descended by the annihilation of sense into the abyss of inanity of the long-awaited virtuous city.
The human soul experiencing the unpleasantness of the confusions sown on the arteries of crime hidden by the noisy ways of the perpetual lies of weak minds buried in the eternal fear of the confrontation between the nothingness of the word and the presence of crimes, making pleasure of the chaste soul a permanent cruel joke borrowed by the politicians- brigands, agonizing breaths of the "ambitious" criminal seeking in the asphalt of the confused roads the smoke of a lava-princess, coveted by Mrs. the church the prostitute waiting eternally his bitter pay for savoring the loathsome tastes of the "princes of this world": the leprous members of the gloomy “royal family”, seduced by extreme ignoble provocation, tasting the hereditary pleasures of a corrupt fortune of unfortunate souls.

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