Thursday, January 26, 2012


Wander through the mists I must,
Not knowing that which all know,
Her icy breath upon my neck,
Chased and hunted through the fog

Pure rage engulfs, as the icy shards close,
A catharsis is nigh, says the banshee,
For you are stripped of all the superfluous,
You now lie naked before me and yourself

The revelation strikes,
All the know is meaningless without self examination,
For we are not merely vessels or vassals,
we are ephemeral clouds of consciousness

A consciousness born of senses,
To rise above the ashes,
And smell the burning past,
The amalgam seeps, breaking form

The sphere shatters,
All logic breaks, the spinning top falls,
Her cruel laugh pierces the icy winds,
Winds so cold, all that remains is me

A sweeping calm spreads across the fire and ice,
An eerie calm, while the echoes fade
You are reborn, anew

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