There was within the dreams surrendered falling,
A going down to depths of darkened being
And in the slide toward hell’s beating heart,
There was on either side, bright, mirrored calling.
It cannot be explained, nor offered out in words
For sundered realms of truth are given here
And all that one can know is soon forgotten
And songs once sung in joy, no longer heard.
I would not speak of all that has been offered,
I cannot paint the pictures that would show
The truth of worlds beyond and all their riches
That lie beneath the black earth, duly softened.
It is on angels wings and arms we journey
And with the Gods we find our way to know,
The full allotment of our sacred being,
The sacred seed with which our lives are sown.

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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