Revenants & Lemures

Wrestling with wraiths of various sorts- some weighty as lead, some gossamer as ghosts…

And some carry chains, to be heard clearly clanking, while others seem to whisper, light as breath.

With unfound Faith, the will aborts, and weighed down with dread, the great philosopher roasts…

… As Truth's restrained, and the devil's are banking (upon lie's lisper to entreat Soul's Death!),

So let us come now, then, and spread our wings to fly, for the Moment brings It's wasted gift- there to lift us up, and that's no sin-

For no unholy Aeolus is father of the wind, and no Zephyrus will descend from out 'the West.

So, come now, won't you give a try? For atonement clings to virtue's thrift, and even, perhaps, dictates the “lose" or “win”.

No sanctimonious “A+” should allow one to pretend… that some sheepskin or papyrus makes them best.

But pride became the Fall of Man, as stated by some wizened voice, and does it matter, now, to hear the echo?…

Or shall it just confuse you more, as you march off 'pon your lusty misadventures?

To make a most destructive plan- as if you did not have a choice- beyond the limited span of Roman or Greco,

And the rust-fuzed hinge of your firmly held door, and all the lies that it crustily indentures,

To stay locked behind it 'til the End of Days, all grimed about with grief and ancient cobwebs;

And always to cringe back from any honest offer, and suspicious of the words their voices mock…

… That always remind them of the Masks of Clay, all primed with disbelief as Love's Flow ebbs,

And always to detract from Any that is proffered, and treat, maliciously, the small birds that make 'the flock,

And set smoky fires that choke the skies, and sublimate our free-born wills, squeezing all into a most- cramped mold.

This needs addressed, and let's not tarry, lest the winds of desolation feed the flames!

What the Truth inquires, and what Love implies- should we cling to Grace's heels, achieving all Her hand’s would have us hold-

To be held as blessed, all light & airy, caressed by Her elation, ‘held as our aims.

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                      -- FINI --