PRISONER OF TIME 2 © 2008
Before the flourish, consistency,
The universal gaze in reverence,
A tear in the heart, so fatal,
Like a dagger in the Sunday reading.
In the truth, that wounds, resistance,
Of the being that seeks, in its essence,
A meaning, a direction, a sign,
Beyond the ceremonial veil.
The lie, a thorn, an absence,
That marks the soul with its influence,
But in love and truth, after all,
Resides the cure for the fatal blow.