May I sit awhile?
I am fair tired from
the journey
through timeless stars...

tired of tears
tired of lies
tired of false desires,
not born of Sun...
tired of darkness
tired of pride
tired of corruption of hearts
tired of your illnesses
tired of your gluttony
tired of your greed
tired of your guilt
tired of your imbalance
tired of your injustice
tired of your uncaring
tired of your sad grey eyes
tired of your fears

I wish to end it all
who will give me their knife ?
...to slit both sides -
and let the earth
drink my blood,
as she thirsts for it -
and she is worthy of blood!

Then fight still with your will yet a thrill,
never fills of the kill's bitter pills!

Have you not found the peace
put in your hearts -
if you are then
dead,
yet seem somehow,
somewhat,
alive?

Who will bid me enter then
to warm old bones by blazing fire
of your ruin...
to breathe in Light,
if aught be left
in this foul place
that you call 'home' ?

Nay, but I am weary
I would end it all ,
as many fairest children
of them all
turn back on your ways,
so filthy black inside
in very heart I gave.

Who then comes here
to tell the tale
of those who will say
this is my fault ?

Who will judge an old man
crippled,
almost dead in disbelief,
who lost his one dear son,
and other went astray ?

Will any now accuse
me sore
and rant and rave
and go to war?

so
come
and
I will hear
thy poor complaints
against the my comely
righteous saints.

I will hear right hear now all uncouth,
this be the place for Light
of Truth !

Bring then no darkness here, keep it out!
I cannot longer bear with it about

Show mercy pleasing to me too
as it behoves us all to do

come bandy words
if needs you must
see who it is
in whom you trust
and I may bear you
in my niche
with arguments
the best of each...
and if your words
are not amiss
then I will grant
your fondest wish
talk then with me
if not undone
see who has heart
to throw first stone

mercy just
unending bliss
my misery in thee -
bourne with a kiss
aim well ,and let your hatred fill
into dark
storm
if this your will-

So,
end my life,
if you do judge
me with your knife,
and make your move..
else I will hear
fair song of love

Who will come home
and who will stay
when I take
all life away
in once-fair world
for which you pay

for it is naught....
but is for thee
who made it thus -
for so it be

So will you ask
me here to seek,
right in the fire
and let me speak
awhile of ALL
that now has been,
concurrent is,
and will be seen?

Who is here now
who has not bowed
to light of Word
amongst the crowd,
judges cruelly and
will not forgive?
Who'll bid me enter,
so we live ?

Come I do ask,
you all are bid,
none excluded,
nothing hid -
I will have all
to have their say
whether they choose
to love or nay
or curse me
and I turn away.

Have ye disgust
at my dark skin
or open doors
let me within?

as you will
so will you say
who asks me in,
who turns away?

Yet who then is
so pure within,
will look much deeper
than my skin?

Who straight can come
unto the fire
as I do now
right close enquire

beyond the chat
of pain and tears
beyond the deaths
of many years

cast in the earth,
returned above
the water burns
fire quenches love
seas boil and bubble
clouds to seek,
who ventures up there
so to peek?
Fire from the air
who durst yet speak?

Wouldst thou then still
insult my call
come forth and sully
pureness, all?
I gave thee not
thy heart for this
yet come be brave
by the abyss

...and yet my patience
stands atime
of any that can
muse, with rhyme,
stories here of
few who love
and seek to be
with me above,
these stave off timely
evil breath
the tide of time,
the march of death...
gentle as doves
show then those few
who live their lives
in brighter hue...

then I would not
end the trance
'til I have seen them
in their dance
so who will set
the banquet scene
a stranger feast
there ne'er has been

but if you choose
not sing this song
I will away
full swift and strong
and promise that
end ne'er be long

and after that
if still in doubt
not long again
till Lights be out

Who be refined
like gold from dross
tried in furnace
without loss
who tarnished still
who gleaming bright ?
Who will be blinded
by the Light?

Who stands this heat
of holy pyre?
The few who know
sit by thy fire.

Who talks first here ?
Who be last?
Who lost their tongue?
Who be fast?
Who sit aside awhile and cries?
Who very young?
Who, loving, dies?
Will I have answer from the heart?
To know which ones
are set apart?
Didst learn to smile?
The answer's here,
and yet I see
but little cheer.

'Tis only meek who love,
and poor...
Who welcomes me?
... who shuts the door?