The trembling thunder chains soul to awake.
Though depths be the bane of the weak,
To strike the divine is to drain the opaque.

What holds your reason, should judgment mistake?
Though the alternate prospects are bleak,
The trembling thunder chains soul to awake.

Were it be you, could comfort forsake?
No, unaware, your posture bespeaks.
To strike the divine is to drain the opaque

The valiant of will won’t welcome the quake
Empowered, the sordid, the broken, the meek,
The trembling thunder chains soul to awake

Ethereal dance, whose lost weavings partake
those apes, who stand tall, boasting technique.
To strike the divine is to drain the opaque.

Yet pardons, in diligence, to the transparent fake;
On fires dwell qualms of conceit.
The trembling thunder chains soul to awake.
To strike the divine is to drain the opaque.