Early dawn birds remain unawakened;
night-prawl creatures resigned to slumber—
your Eyes are afraid
to shut themselves,
Lest you cease to
it certainly isn’t true, but
it’s nice to pinch ourselves
a little harder now and then,
and to Imagine
all of One’s Life glorified
in a single,
” There is no possibility that any perceptible change will happen within our own life time. We are the dead. Our only true life is in the future.
We shall take part in it as handfuls of dust and splinters of bone. “
Deeds of the fathers, grand fathers,
and countless fallen aspects
of the passed on elders—
Trickle down into your Being;
you the Reincarnate,
guided vicariously by Karmic arms,
inevitably let your feet doused,
bathing in Ancient Sins.
Chewing on the recycled fruits,
Are you on many-a-days,
helplessly gazing down the Abyss
of recurrent, unsurmountable defeat?
OH! PRECIOUS SAPLING:
how little do you know—
Reborn and Embodied in You
lives a New Divinity?
Your seed carefully Sown
by Hands Eternal, and Blessed evermore in Passion?
How could you then
dare to contort effortlessly
into Another Effigy
along the Ancestral line of
Fight with all of Your Might!
Abolish the curse of age and history;
Your Spirit mint and radiant,
Defiant against festered creeds.
Sins of the fathers,
rusty chains of shame
surely shall to repeat:
Sons and Daughters in the Living,
fulfill not once more
a destructive prophecy—
Conquer the Self, endlessly;
let the cyclic fouls be
Vanquished at your feet.
“Now, let me share my Miracles.
Only, their ultimate effectiveness will be
determined by your efforts, and your faith.”
—Petrus of Thorolund, Dark Souls.
“Our significance isn’t found in fame or fortune, but in knowledge that we have been links in the great Cosmic chain. Our faithfulness, even in obscurity, will yield results that can only be calculated in eternity.”