A Token for the Artist and the Martyr

Can anything remain profound once shared?
Due to the nature of things, it seems
That with every passing of something sacred to another
(Even another bearer of intellectual mercy)
A piece of its profundity is ebbed away
And its grandeur diminished.
Even at the shores of its glory,
The beautiful alter where a silent genius becomes
A self-righteous dullard, the ignition of its impact
(And the impact of its ignition)
Are lost in translation.
Transparency, transcendence, and transgression—
All in one resplendent paradox of unity.
O, the desperately cathartic, yet painful lament,
Of the outsider.