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Pull ye off the onion masks from the faces of the Great tree
and examine the multi layers, existing under thee
I am beauty
I am love
I am the flying of the white Holy dove

I am death
I am the whore's dress of breath
I will examine every inch of thee

I am the moon
I am the mystery's, you will assume
I am the rose that will never bloom

I am evil and hate
I am the cruel hand of fate
I am that which is never late

I am the devil
I am the turning bevel
I am the wheels and the jewels of hate

I am good
I am bad
I am the knowing that keeps you sad

I am the Christ
I am the device
I am the personification of all things nice

I am the exploded sun
the father of fragmentations that were all one
that deposited in magical layers
at the foot of the marble white stairs
I am the future and the past
I am the maker of all those masks

Georges
Copyright:George Wright 2004

Georges ~

Your poetry is showing greater calm and clarity. Have you stopped drinking ?

~ Lizzy

Not altogether, Liz. It does help to be inspired, however.
Georges