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Click hereblinded by the glare of
your own knowledge and belief
that is your reflection
an empty cup pain released
the way lies open to perfection
an offering, my hand, a torch,
forged in cold and piercing light
yet you cling ecstatic, futile
to the shadow play
ringing hollow of the night
some things
can not, will not, ever
cross your path twice
long
the way
to perfection is open
yet the road
treads winding
each step
bearing promise dangers
allure of flight
and fall to pride
but oh what wonders to admire
long
the way