Seven pages, blank and white.
Not committing till judged as right,
Evolution measured in words and bound with cryptic yellow cords.
See the sun burn ashes first, to slake the serpent's endless thirst...
The Meaning of The One, Oh Yes, has aeons long been gone, suppressed;
and passed through time as glittered belt
studded with every hurt e'er felt.
So tears, they hang like diamonds down.
Disguised confusion marked as frown.
Oh save me from this endless night - Don't bond with WAX to give me flight.
Just let me go and set me free.
Abandon fear of being me.
Sweet somethings hidden in the dark, protected by ferocious bark of dogs made into lions.
Will the sunbeams dance together?
In this stitch that runs forever, will a way out e'er be found?
Ah, Lord. Why if I am free, does it feel like I am bound?
Cut the double stitch, let loose -
that I may fly on winds of truth.
Save me from myself.
And words, they move like dancers through this night of unknown choice.
Mouths sealed tight forever but soul-windows give them voice.
Only vestiges remain of what once was Universal...
And our hearts are black with sins for which there can be no reversal.