mine arm grows weak
from carrying this sword
now broken and lame
I've taken stead of confusion
losing my vision, seeing only within
but there's much a contradiction
it spreads through my head
in torrents of attrition
leaving eroded landscapes
of what was once rife with colors
of life observed
only felt now
remnants of what once had sight
it's all bad design
provoking lines of thought
about reasons for naught
becoming empty space
erased, void of purpose
and somewhat displaced
and yet, somewhere thereout
way beyond what could be scoped
lies the answer to the riddle
that occupies my conscious abode
so I look on with perplexed face
maybe--
maybe my curiosity baits the beast
a living resolution and key to inner peace
it seems logical
somehow
to stare into the paradox
that is and always has been
the solution within...
