Give to me an enemy to test my hard-bought steel.
See the pyres, funeral fires become the price of zeal.
Show to me the lone and free contained within myself.
Old men wise but still they die, scattering their wealth.
Free, I loved the stars above reflecting in my eyes.
Yearning long, I sang my song for those above the sky.
Darkness lined, a hollow mind is hiding in the wood.
Lost the past and sinking fast, still, all in All is good.
Wide-eyed born the unicorn no longer treads the earth.
Dead-eyed ghost revered the most, measuring our worth.
Lonesome trail has spun this tale, a man alone and weak.
Filled with guile, brought to trial, stuttering, I speak…
“All the wise are telling lies to point you to the place;
far above the seat of love, matter, time and space.”