The strings of my heart now bleed ink on this paper
All this time, sacrifice, sacrifice, did it thrice
Like a Martyr’s Crucifix Begins to unfold,
the narrow frame into
The big picture
I write down pages that hollow my heart,
Like a sword, piercing, separate and apart,
The sword, the Mirage of Truth
Two sided, without a Cause
Just tempered by anger’s pause
Transformation; Alchemy in the Heart
Past lives, sondar denies starts,
Each end decision, now
First the helm, taken off reveals
The light image of the face
Is this me? I can see freely.
Next the mail, than the shoulders,
Keeping me down, all these boulders,
Mountains made into iron
Iron sharpens man, man
Splices apart into hollow composure
The gauntlets, held true to wield
The sword of my being, pain field
In which last life, caused appeals,
This is mine, that is yours, infinite
All as One supplement.
No armor, innocent, stunned
What have I done with walling One?
No armor, sense is common,
No reason the evolve, just a hollow
Dance among the play.
Now, what is this Sword?
The word that Fjords,
Cutting, split, who is this?
Just the edge of a blade
Now, the muse opened
Upon thee, a flow in Heart,
No judgement, just a lasting
Eternity, hollowed in sugar,
There is nothing to gain from this
Hopeless, but hope reveals itself
In the dark night of the soul,
Does the translucent midnight sun
Take its course to be Whole.