Born at dusk, we endure the dark of night
Before the dawn casts light on our folly.
And when the light comes clear,
Who still stands here to tell the tale?
I am
blessed in my simplicity.
I live,
and need none to save me.
I feel
I have no reason for fear.
I know
I belong nowhere but here.
I know what other men have known:
Feasting of the flesh and of the gold.
In their passionate lust to own,
They call me foolishly cold.
While I am sought by he who seeks to end.
Peace, Balance, and good will to men and to the land.
But now, a witness am I to your belligerence, arrogance.
Realize there are some unspoken passions of man;
Bind, lock away, ignore the truth in this desperation.
War is not forsaken by men --
With greater ease we forget peace.
I know the words I had once spoke,
But my path is consumed by fire and smoke.
The guiding star is obscured,
All sense of reason is broke.
Yet, this too is a sanctuary
Blessed by unbound purity.
How can one walk and know a path
If the forbidden side he'll never see?
I have come to seize this moment, this nature, this blade;
And with it, I seek none other than to quell my spirit for a moment.
The world, in shame and scorn, has turned it's gaze from me;
For, no longer do I serve an empty promise to myself.
This body lives on,
Satiated of its vengeful thirst.
But who still stands here
To tell the tale?