On, and sought.

I am thankful for what's passed, history.

Though not looking for more signs or similies that

so forged the lessons and days on my end

burned with some genuflection for 'God.'

The pilgrimage of old

sought birth in a new world

from kingdom's fauxs that fractured good faiths.

Yet, tough to kick the habit

to instill lessening of prideship

in those that live with spirit,

those non-modern, but family,

those equal folk, yet different

in their craft and in their plight.

Oh where does the trail of tears cease?

At the western sea.

Where does it end? In time I think, pray, ease.

Versings

Similar to actuality, no, quite exactly so,

a boy couldn't find the words,
a girl couldn't find the words.
For thee who deciphers the verse of tarot
so to 'do what thou wilt.' in whole,
ye brightfolk may pass on the light,
as touch, through this night of mind.

Through choice is freedom
and none above may claim providence,
for no god is so perverse.
Yet hell be your's, ye dim passer-by
for whom rape lay the cards of fortune.
For attuned you are not, nor worthy of the touch
amongst world, among sibling, among self.
So, though paths do fork,
your earth may hope to share it's humble stage inclusively
in exchange that thy helm is of a keenest and selfless pride.
Why else to be? I cannot imagine.
For if all is a mirror, I today have sighed multitudes.