Prusten

 

Home: mine. These miles a vast infinite yoke

Unseen horizons bind yet still not tame

Passage of time now nought, not wax nor wane

Eyes burn with dark, burn bright too blind to look

Millpond silence rings quiet. Screams evoke

acrid self stench with which to ruin, maim

to bite, caress and claw. Am I still sane?

Fear rips my soul, pain I can no more brook.


These are tortures. Exactly that no more

Witness as Witness, never ignored

Awake, await, away and soar above

Both hold, let go. Watch change, be not its whore

Reveal’d: beauty and grace read’ly outpoured

Now love becomes life, expressions of love.