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....