will you part ways
of irises
in a
blackhole

tongue and cheek
they call it evvil
but like the pure soul
is beyond words
the irony is
evvil is too

what will cool a fire
what will flames
dried up
cease
to be

a oven
of souls
as even
the dragon
is afraid
at times
of his false
children

and so
a war

the garden of paradise
and all that block
the divine path

if you would
read a book
it would sound
a noble war
for the bloood
of grandfathers
and sons and daughters
and the bloood of the earth
predestined
the human
calamity

no
the war
between
good and evil
knows bloood
is useless in eternity

while the pain
of goodness
when it fails
burns pages
of prophesy

the eye
of the angel
is blackened
for a moment

the pain of loss
is eternal

the pain
of giving
away love
wounds the heart more
than my body can take

so my axe
my sword
my words
my love
my love
my love

and the war
within me

my tests
and my reins
when some beast
tries to war

and all my faults
all my wrongs
all the poor souls
wasted in
my stubborness

i need to know
there is
so much more above me
something to strive for
a true dream
is true living
if the dream
is of good
these words
are for me
too