1 Oct 2013

the blur rushes past, what is coming? what has gone?
the mystery unravels from one undone cord
to blow right through the roof of night, beyond
i have outrun the curse, and exhale
the madness that almost comes, lurking overhead
i have faith only in that it all will make sense one day
otherwise are my prophecies child’s wonder…
we stumble into the lap of fate
to curse that which ends up saving our lives
and that madness which threatens like a brooding sky
i will withstand whatever wind and rain
for i am born from above, and light is not so feeble
the mystery that returns back from the farthest edge:
whispers about love from beginning to end
there is no death except we choose to die
the only thing to do in the face of it is to stand
to be one with that light from where is home
to find not just something worth dying for: but to live

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

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