Bright with bluish light
Slight with cunning might
Kind, innocent, blind
Part, of which, is art…
Spirit, give me peace,
This body needs release…
Pain tempers the nerves, pushes limits…
As it weakens walls, loosens rivets…
Souls are made to withstand
More than can be caused by any hand.
So, this soul is wandering, drifting.
While my mind is pondering, lifting
…And the only direction left to go is forward,
Onward, and upward…