The Green Space

Gentle upon the eyes,
Gentle upon the heart,
Stillness descendeth like morning dew.

Weariness is lifted away,
Greed is silenced,
Suspicion is undone,
And the wandering mind is made whole.

Green and blue are set before us,
Soft in their holy contrast,
A balm for the soul
In days grown narrow and heavy.

The heart is softened,
The spirit made strong,
Desiring to walk and to try all things
Without fear.

Duty is fulfilled unto the One Most High,
And the heart poureth forth its deepest asking.

Cleanse us,
Remove all stain and burden,
Wash away the dust of the world.

Grant us quiet,
Grant us clarity,
Grant us peace
That abideth.

                                                                       

DarksLife

Upon the back of the crow I am borne,
Toward the field of graves where names are dust.

There, upon death’s soil, a smile is born,
For flesh or bone mattereth no more.

I hide among the feathers of the omen,
Watching those crowned masters of belief.

The priest is unmade—not in flesh, but in lie,
His doctrine stripped upon the cold stone table.

His idols are melted,
His false cross returned to ash,
His sacred words burned with their own weight.

The wine of his altar is overturned,
Poured upon gravestones as accusation,
A testimony against hollow holiness.

Let Satan bless the rebellion of thought,
For none will name thee what thou truly art—
A walker in shadow,
A bearer of forbidden questions.

Yet the heart betrays thee still.

Though thou flee the faith,
Though thou stab at belief,
Though thou seek to silence the inner flame—

It dieth not.

God remaineth,
Not upon the altar,
Not in the mouth of priests,
But buried deep within the wound of the soul.

Thou canst not escape what thou truly believest,
Nor kill the heart that yet endureth.

Thus thou livest divided—
Between shadow and light,
Between curse and prayer,

A crow above the grave,
Refusing to choose the sky or the earth.

The Space

I. The Quiet Heart
Gentle upon the eyes,
Gentle upon the heart,
Stillness descendeth like morning dew.

Weariness is lifted,
Greed is silenced,
Suspicion undone,
All madness of the mind cast away.

Green and blue, soft in their holy contrast,
Pour quiet into the soul,
Against the narrowness of the days.

The heart is softened,
The spirit made strong,
Desiring to attempt all things without fear.

Duty is fulfilled unto the One Most High,
And the heart poureth forth its deepest asking.

Cleanse us, O Lord,
Remove all stain and burden,
Wash away the dust of the world,
That peace may remain.

---

II. The Crow and the Shadow
Yet upon the back of the crow am I borne,
Toward fields where graves lie in silence.

There upon death’s soil, a strange smile arises,
For flesh and bone matter not,
Only the shadow within.

I hide amongst the feathers of the omen,
Watching those crowned in hollow faith.

Their doctrine is unmade, their false altars burned,
And their sacred words return to ash.

Let rebellion of thought be blessed,
For none shall name thee as thou truly art—
A walker in shadow,
A bearer of forbidden questions.

Yet the heart betrayeth still,
Though faith is fled,
Though thou strike at belief,
Though thou seek to silence the inner flame—
It dieth not.
God endureth within the wound of the soul.

Thus thou livest divided:
Between light and shadow,
Between prayer and curse,
Between hope and despair,
Like a crow upon the grave,
Refusing sky or soil.

---

III. The Gift of Life
The Lord hath granted space,
Air to sustain our breath,
Though the sun’s fire burneth above.

The night is gentle, and the air is cool,
Yet He giveth His servants room,
Breath long enough to endure.

We seek daily sustenance,
Yet lift our hearts in gratitude,
For the Lord hath promised wonders
That no mind may fully know.

In this darkened life,
We bear patiently His trials,
Yielding to His will,
Knowing comfort may lie in realms beyond.

Upon the earth abideth only corruption,
Degradation, and shadow,
Yet the heart that trusts endureth

 

And His providence remaineth steadfast.                         

                            

The Awakening

After rising from the dream,
The eyes ache, the head reels,
Laziness grips the limbs,
And words are lost upon the tongue.

A moment of thought upon the bed,
The mind wanders far,
Considering the days yet to come,
A future both dim and bright.

Restlessness stirs the heart,
Pain in the gaze at the coming light.

The body is cleansed, the garments neat,
Prepared to seek the morsel of sustenance.

Yet within the mind, only the future stirs,
And no sound escapes the lips;
Only deeds speak the truth.

Now cast aside all speech,
Gather the strength of the giant within.

The hour approaches when crimson blossoms arise,
Heralding the dawn of a bright and burning future.

The Testament of Love Friendships

House, chariot, and hoarded wealth—
These are not the law of love.

They are tools for survival in the march of days,
Not the altar upon which love is sworn.

Love requireth not coin,
Nor possession,
Nor name, nor rank, nor title carved by men.

The covenant of love is sealed by other means:
By sincerity unfeigned,
By sacrifice willingly borne,
By loyalty that doth not tremble,
By honesty uncorrupted.

This is love made clean.

All else is vanity,
A union hollow and already dead.

Beauty of flesh, adornment of form—
These fade like smoke before the wind.

What endureth is the strength of devotion,
The will to stand for one soul alone.

Riches promise joy,
Yet deliver emptiness.

Blessed is the love unchained from possessions,
For it boweth to no false god.

Cursed is the love weighed by riches,
For it shall collapse beneath its own greed.

From the days of childhood,
Through youth, and onward to the end of life,
Friends shall walk beside us.

In sorrow and in joy, they remain.
Cast them not aside with pride, nor strut in arrogance.
Harbor not envy, greed, nor betrayal.

Laugh with them in mirth,
Grieve with them in sorrow,
For this alone is the true sustenance of the soul.

Counsel given with sincerity,
A heart unfeigned in help,
Needeth no coin nor reward.

Sacrifice freely for them,
Let your heart be pure,
For money holdeth no worth where loyalty and sincerity abide.

Shun them not, forget them not,
Aid them even if they bear dislike toward thee.
Apologize sincerely for thy faults,
Forgive them, and cherish the bond.

Even when hearts are crossed,
True friendship endureth.

Friends, companions, allies—
Forget them not,
For in them lies strength, and the light of life.

                                                                     

Glimmering of Light

Ache of the eyes,
Ache of the head,
Ache of the heart,

Day grows dark,
Night deepens,

White flashes upon the vision,
Pain within the soul,

From afar, the world appears busy,
Yet heavy clouds dim its brilliance.

Danger cometh from the gleam,
And without it, darkness reigneth—
Darkness of the world, darkness of the heart.

Yet the heart lifteth thanks unto the Most High,
For He hath bestowed His light,
His radiance upon all life,
Even amid shadow and pain.

The Racism Sins.

Racism is a poison of pride,
Forged to harden the heart and divide the land.

Racism teaches men to despise the stranger,
To raise walls where none were ordained.

It bears no wisdom,
It yields no harvest.

Racism is the rot that collapses kingdoms,
The fire that consumes its own house.

It is a mark of shame upon the soul,
A shadow cast by ignorance.

In race there is no salvation,
In bloodlines there is no glory.

All men are fashioned alike:
Eyes, hair, head, hands, feet, and heart.

All are shaped by the same Hand,
Created to bow in worship, not in hatred.

Yet behold—
The days grow darker,
And hearts grow colder,
Men devour one another with words and contempt.

Racism has no sacred purpose,
No divine calling,
Only ruin.

It devours the one who carries it,
It hollows the mind,
It corrupts the spirit.

Therefore let racism be cast into oblivion,
Let the sickness be cut away from the soul.

Let hatred perish,
Let ignorance fall silent.

For not mankind must be erased,
But the darkness within it.

The Stench Redemption

Go forth and perish, thou and thy hatred,
Ignorance aflame, consumed by failure,
All things are ever brought to question,
Thou alone abidest, dwelling in deceit,
From the fires of death thou shalt arise,
Thou diest by thy bleeding, laid bare by thine own confession,
Blasphemy and wrath, persuading the soul,
Denying the fall from thine own grace,
I behold him stand against it, and I feel his blood,
I fall upon my knees and am undone.

Wrong Partaker

When I beheld thine eyes,
I perceived a sign—
The pentagram reflected within.

I longed to veil thine gaze,
That no symbol might rule it,
That no mark might define the soul.

I stood against false faith,
Yet bowed not to devils,
For rebellion is not worship,
And doubt is not damnation.

Six hundred threescore and six—
Not the number of demons alone,
But the number of power built in shadow,
A government of hell masked as order.

When judgment beginneth to rot,
The people fall into confusion.

They know not what is right,
Nor what is wrong.

Good is clothed as evil,
Evil crowned as good.

Thus they are taught not truth,
But obedience,
Not wisdom,
But fear.

Symbols replace conscience,
Numbers replace justice,
And faith is weaponized against the soul.

Blessed is the one who seeth beyond signs,
Who readeth not with eyes alone,
But with mind and heart unchained.

For truth needeth no symbol,
And God requireth no number.

Only discernment.
Only clarity.
Only the courage to think.

O Grave Digger

O Grave-Digger, thy labor is noble,
For thou dost lay the dead to rest beneath the soil.

Without thy toil, the bodies would rot,
Feasted upon by dogs, scattered to the wind.

Without thy hands, the earth would claim no order,
And corpses would lie in decay, unblessed.

No task is more solemn,
O thou noble sentinel of the departed.

With white cloth thou adornest the gravestones,
Even when scorned by those who dwell above,
Yet exalted thou art in the sight of God.

Thou workest only to cleanse the graves,
To bury the dead,
To sanctify the land with holy verses.

Thou must beget an heir,
To continue the sacred charge,
For when thou departest from this mortal coil,
Thy heir shall bear thee to the earth,
And thy work shall endure upon the land.

O Grave-Digger, thy duty is eternal,
A bridge between the living and the departed,
A servant of shadow and sanctity alike.

Stairways With Dark Lord

So, here I lift my voice to Sweet Satan,
The one who walketh the narrow, winding path,
Whose presence bringeth sorrow to the heart,
Whose power dwelleth in shadow and trial.

He giveth the mark of six hundred threescore and six,
A number heavy with fear and false dominion.

There, in a little shed, hidden and obscure,
He fashioneth trials,
Teaching pain, endurance, and reflection.

Sweet Satan, shadow of the soul,
Thou art sorrowful, yet thy lessons are sharp.

Through thee, I learn the weight of darkness,
And through thee, the light of discernment doth shine.

For even amid suffering,
Even under thy guise,
The heart may find clarity,
And the spirit may choose the path of understanding.