The
labyrinth unravels the man-tide turns
Unmasked
the puzzle, and by the blood of kings:
The
spent wine they gave for the run of the new.
Wrought
of emerald those eyes which saw beneath the press
That
no more counted wealth by what could be seen...
No
hidden silver stylus engraving life in wax
But
a pen redeemed that etched the life in rock.
Which,
from the inner cry, bled, and wore down the evasion
And
so the seeing-prize: not to fear the press that crushed it.
Shine,
love’s lake of tears that holds the life of many
Rekindle
the fires and at the last moment.
*
No comments:
Post a Comment