Peace, at last,
As I face the familiar image
Granted to my soul by the spirit
I have been endowed.
From the aperture of my being I gaze
Upon the dust of the earth,
Reminding myself of the dust
From which I came.
My home resides not between the walls
Constructed by my soul,
But rather in the blissful garden
Of which my soul desires.
A peaceful garden,
Clothed with lilies
And hopeful spirits,
The eternal vineyard.
My soul continues to examine
The vessel in which it resides.
”The hope of the hopeful has succumbed to its death,
The flesh of my being.”
Peace forsakes my soul.
Desperate and enlightened
My soul rages against its Maker,
Departing from the path of the garden
Into the depths of the earth.
Raging, raging, raging.
My spirit is dead!
Die, hope!
For my prospect surpasses reach,
Beyond the garden’s gate lies my salvation.
Mortal, my flesh,
Ceasing with the refrain of the soul.
My mind has torched the garden,
Its lilies scorch the sky.
Rage, rage, rage!
This vaporous life drowns meaning
Within the depths of my eyes,
Blind to the sunset that approaches.
Reach! reach, reach,
Reach aloft and seize the fading light!
Free my captive being.
Rupture these shackles!
Capture the elusive hope veiled
Beneath my heart.
Hope,
Hope,
Hope.
Night is fast advancing,
Giving way soon to its end.
The Light of this world has now risen,
And the sun no longer is dead.
I refuse to give way to the flesh,
For it will burn along with the mind.
I now give way to the Spirit,
For Water has quenched the burning flame.