Status Updates From Fuoco pallido

My God died young. Theolatry I found Degrading, and its premises, unsound.
No free man needs a God; but was I free?
How fully I felt nature glued to me And how my childish palate loved the taste Half-fish, half-honey, of that golden paste!

“Such hearts, such brains, would be unable to comprehend that one's attachment to a masterpiece may be utterly overwhelming, especially when it is the underside of the weave that entrances the beholder and only begetter, whose own past intercoils there with the fate of the innocent author.”