Traveling through tunneled hallways
She swiftly lured him from the mental maze.
Safely within her chambers, she heard his tragic Terror
The Sorceress cast potions and elixirs into the air.
Spell spun in silence too sacred to share.
For healing would come and then he could declare
Victory over shadows, over-waged warfare.
To the powerful mesmerizing Burja
Francia
Michael A wounded Alchemist laid bare his despair.
At Battle with spirits, anxiety & drink
He stood at the edge, pulled back from the brink
Through incense & whispers, through her sacred care
He remembered his purpose, still buried in a dimpled stare.

Set in the sky’s horizon at dawn
was the Morningstar.
Luna, the moon,
tagged close behind
trailing in silver stillness,
as the brightness of the Son of Man
broke over the earth.

No words can express
the secret agony of my soul,
as I sunk into this celestial companionship
surrounded, yet alone.

There is nothing new under the sun.
No joy untouched by sorrow.
Even this is vanity.
Alone on my throne.