Beauty After Destruction
Torment is a prerequisite,
For there's peace after the plunge,
A mountain may seem unscalable,
Impossible to budge.
He who does fall to knee,
Becomes slave to that which stands,
Life is truly a female dog,
Be not a slave to any man;
Nor any woman - but a primordial being,
Unseen, unheard, untouched - stroking strings of fate,
For if your peace be not in your control,
Then this thing is what to hate.
I would not pray for any guidance,
Seek no comfort in spiritual things,
For will has been given unto man,
Believe in the power which it brings.
Then you may know the truth,
That great power comes from within,
And that peace may be found as proof,
Long after we have sinned.
We have no fortune to know the future,
Yet we may sculpt the here and now,
Know well that beauty takes some time,
Seeds are sewn after the plow.
The Conundrum of Venus and Mars
When The Cold Comes