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And lo you speak of darkness

in the halo of the flame

your words are marred in starkness

of a fear without a name.

And lo casting spells

distortions of perfection

and all the desert ills

marring His reflection.

And in the cold hard blackness

you have named it just as well

and cannot see the Beauty

past the self created Hell.

And lo you dream of monsters

to explain away your Hate

and you speak of madman

as if they wait outside the Gate.

I have watched you building castles

to shield you from the light

commissioned these epistles

and steal away the night.

And lo there standing silent

to all that could never be

the sleepless fervent wishes

that can never make you free.

And lo you speak of darkness

almost as if it known

and fall deep and leave to the abyss

of this your eternal renown.

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