flight of the butterfly, rising free
In blackness
He rides the rising tides of evil
Devoid of all colors
But the color of colorlessness
The furthest flung mysteries
Come again into view
As the sage reawakens
And sees through eyes, new
Arriving in the morning
I look up to the sky
Gentle hawk encircles
I pause to wonder why
The task that is before me
Creates a weary soul
I ask the Lord to carry me
In Him am I made whole
I walk into the thickness
My gut begins to wrench
Smile fades more than a bit
Dwelling in the angry stench
But robbed of my serenity
Proposition I will not embrace
I close my eyes for an instant
Find solace in Your Face