In fight there reveals a power ...blood ...sickly dies...withering away falls off...with sword in hand Power is a principle...it goes on...weakness is a sign...OF DECAY Suddenly I fly above that stream Somebody's holding my hand & my heart With shame I throw away my sword
TEARS FLOW FROM MY HEART... With pain I return ...back to stream...bu I don't know WHY Perhaps to tell about the place beyond the stream Perhaps to know how to take by the hand & heart as I was taken Perhaps to cleanse and elate the power reigning in the stream....