Where my pursuit rejoices,
where my desires would lodge
its weary, old perceptions
shall where my fears would dodge;
with swords and shields at rise
from falling spears and sticks
maybe from bullets or those canyons,
no dreamer's saved by tricks;
since certain's the process
succeeding is
no, never overnight
never in one punch fist,
for prices shall be paid;
by honor, best by sweats
on bloody, batteted bandage
unless no wounds you swept;
for flashing shall be images
within heart-flaming essence
a remain or carried, kept to keep
your fiercely fought for reasons;
'till mirror both how joyous
are soulful blood-infliction
of visions past, today, tommorow
under their shades,
you thrived intention;
for certain one process,
succeeding wills
upon invested efforts
from times you killed
yet, nothing's dead now;
alive--your living sprirt
for death bequests never to worry
only when life's no guilt.
