Ten thousand nights have laid themselves down before me
and I have played the princess in the tower oh so well.
The perfect aryan child tucked up behind veils of delusional dream,
to sleep to wander into places where damsels save themselves.
And in such splendor the masks do fall like autumn leaves,
crisp and changed - each fallen and forgotten under foot.
But hair grew much too fast beneath garments as mole hills became mountains
and irony of ironies I caught my goldie locks in a leaf covered bear trap-
ensnared in biting pain I did wait for my knight and trusty steed -
but my prince was the villain; a scenario I was unprepared for
lost in delusion while he mawled my once ivory skin,
till it bled; my blood irreparably tarnished by his seed.
And the nights kept falling one by one,
slowly to their knees or else dying a savage death by blade or flame -
and for my part I have lived them.
Unprepared for such madness, armed only with fairytales
I have fought a battle I never could win.
And the people came. I let them in, wove threads of trust, only
to taste the milk of human kindness and choke on its bitterness.
And so I shrank from the world like the tortoise to its shell
and I climbed my tower, bolted the door - I cut my hair short.
So I sit by a tiny window with animal-kind to kiss my scars.
People grab at me but I am out of reach and there I shall stay
some day the Prince shall come and from now on I will trust only in Him.

Hold me like a weapon,
bite me like a sin,
and watch me burn—
because I’m yours,
wild and wanting,
and I want it—
every savage, filthy second.

Thus says the Spirit:

Intentionality.
Effort.
Diligence unceasing.
By My Spirit —
You shall strike the mark.

Work out your salvation.
Be ye separated.
The voice of the Spirit thunders:
Purposed intentionality!

Behold —
I have set before you
Life and death.
Choose Life!
That you may live.

I have granted free will;
Yet My Spirit cries:
Turn!
Set your face!
Choose the Way of Life!

Acceptance is the beginning, not the end.
It is the gate, not the prize.
Walk ye through!
Move with purpose!
Run with resolve!
Set your face as flint
Toward the Kingdom!

Work out your salvation
With fear,
With trembling.

The sirens of Heaven sound.
The alarm is raised.
The Spirit warns:

Be diligent, O soul.
Be steadfast, O heart.
For the Day draws near —
Nearer than you know.

Thus says the Spirit.