Time's Scribe

by Michaelw1two Mind’s deep permits, darkness’ caverns crave, I beseech of thee one light defined in candled flame hides in that blue profound indeed these depths despair; oh savage light, make bright release these binds, of mind, of heart, of soul cleared true substance beret, of loss, of life, of love; an emptiness unknown holds bared, expose this will for breath, yet breathe I dare releasing my wounded soul from bond, and so I rise prepared truth said so won, this bloodied sword sings still; why care? Wisdom’s solemn gain, one’s conscience bleeds the soul’s revengeful feast flesh fresh these tastes, bodies burned provide these sordid treats gnashing gnaw, upon which limbs; for I hunger so; who knew allows this seat, this beggared soldier’s code and helm tearing down the shadow’s loathsome twin, in thought I am but man time’s scribe within this shell of flesh, and bone, and sin rends thoroughly my heart, of things long passed, and of such to come begins this mend, a final one of lost hopes blend Healing once again, becomes that friend formed long ago and yet my past is but that dim, of dew from wisdom’s clock suppress’ such great shames, and pain; first sin’s remind of heart’s part yearn tears life’s strength away, from battles wounds and shock heaven’s lament, once treasured grain of sand laid low of time’s sense resolve’s content, sup well upon each battered stalk will rise my quest, release the key locked portals secluded door completion myths abound, therein an ends set locked Reflection’s tests, will anger win as compassion slowly dies once unchained, will’s tense, of past or the future’s proud mirror, mirror; alas my very soul’s respect for all life life kept in peace, before conception’s inquest’s snide rejection’s mean, suspicious wane and crossing winds now sing meant forms, or shadow’s shear; I hear as all collides face up this fact, this mourn, this sense, this reasoning of my blind fulfilling’s acceptance; of truths I stand beside Universal fears, an unclean world, this wound yet bleeds in sin humankind’s distain; it’s distance glares out above consciousness is an unconscious theme, from god away you’ve turned crypts open wide, yet in sin you hide from his dove decision, an easy prospects bet, that line is fixed enough accept this simple word; the coming’s near, you’ve heard rectify this, and clarify that, why wait, self’s knowledge hums everyone pleads, but God why me; as that oven burns! Oct 2011