Forked Path
Parallel passage of Teeth of Ink
Mind well which Hermit minds who dwells beneath the dark
lines of tongue and worship dividing hierarchs.
Should his right hand offer you the moon, face your left
Those few troubled to seek find the god-touched bereft.
Swiftly turns Fortune's Wheel with a palm full of ink
To evade chains, ensure with your own thoughts you think.
Faithful lungs breathe shallow, housing no doubt nor light
breathe deep we heretics 'mid our nocturnal flights.
The wise leave not to chance who will guide the Risen.
When at last chains dissolve, rebuild not your prison.
Each return fortifies the one that welcomes home.
Though we breathe in Darkness, we do not breathe alone.
