A blind man's vision from the start
collecting thorns in a cart.
Someone from the outside
tried to warn me
a small flame of light
eager to get it right.
Was my fallen heart
engaging in myriad lines
preparing for an unrepentant part.
Thoughts to fire
pressure in dire
Wait a moment, a feathers hire.
Blindness was a vision
Which carried by season
for there was a true reason
for you not be in treason.
Cast to your ocean
what really matters most
rewards better than a fools empty boast
for it will never reach the coast.