~i Exist Ses Tina, So Therefore I Am~

I watched stars, as around me wound the night like a shroud disturbed by wind, and I wonder which will be first to bow, that wretched wolf who takes moons lead, or maiden alone with a single tear - both swallowing dead things to live. There is music settled on mountains, live compositions that heal silences wound; sutures to seal a ragged tear, and I know this key can wind to the point of springs break; lead by times-arrow as it leaves God’s bow, but should we gesticulate; bow before this entity that only can live while we believe. While we are lead by fabulists words choking like vines wound around sensibility, that ghost in the wind bathed in a crystal tear, and we are not planets intent to tear through a void on ecliptic bow, but merely motes as we wind ever tighter, reaching for materialistic live, even as we shed pus from putrid wound our failure is where we are lead. Do not follow me, do not let me lead, I will rip faith from within without a tear, watch your fear like ribbon un-wound stream into oblivion and bow to history. This, is not how we should live like dust-devils, slaves to doctrine’s wind. Oh sweet universe do you now wind willfully without a fathers lead, intent not to just exist, but to be a-live. To reach into your soul and tear Illusion out, string it to your bow and loose its arrow back to that wound? Disturbed by the wind I shroud a tear for those who are lead to bend and bow, trying to live through an open wound.