There was within the dreams
surrendered falling,
A going down to depths of darkened
being
And in the slide toward hell’s
beating heart,
There was on either side, bright,
mirrored calling.
It cannot be explained, nor offered
out in words
For sundered realms of truth are
given here
And all that one can know is soon
forgotten
And songs once sung in joy, no
longer heard.
I would not speak of all that has
been offered,
I cannot paint the pictures that
would show
The truth of worlds beyond and all
their riches
That lie beneath the black earth,
duly softened.
It is on angels wings and arms we
journey
And with the Gods we find our way to
know,
The full allotment of our sacred
being,
The sacred seed with which our lives
are sown.
No comments:
Post a Comment