Where the woods warp all and none,
the invisible path to nowhere, stands tall,
beneath the line of conscience.

There awaits a BEACON of light
where no eyes have dared walked,
and no tongue have whispered a name.

Still, I lift the beam, my own,
trembling at its source, and wish to know
what lies behind the prickly thorn

Many hold the mask of hollow hearts,
but I tell you this, it is not absent
only scarred
so much as to not see its own dimensions

Better to bring a torch, a friend,
and a snack or two for waiting,
for it is a dark cave ,
like the womb against all the thieving
done in taking

And on your way out and far ,
dont forget to greet the old hag at the gate there,
Spin around three
and on the third
you may find a new perception,
far from this
and probably to the relief of all your attention.