Alchemic Verse

Tint age old lens
From rose to black
Attack of sense
Pulls swords from back
So light I pack

No recompense
For what’s revealed
Such weak defense
What’s left to feel
I hope you heal

Thrown in my face
Grudge on display
Last chance to waste
What’s left to pay
Why to delay

The steps retraced
Crush dead the path
Of trust misplaced
Of envy’s wrath
Of baneful bath

Clearer the lens
When all is mapped
Illusion bends
Of duty strapped
And keeper trapped

No false amends
For optics’ sake
When love pretends
What’s left to take
I hope you wake

Preserve my grace
And walk away
Last weak embrace
What’s left to say
Why would I stay

So in my place
Lives empty chill
An aftertaste
Of bitter pill
Of poison’s swill

Shatter the lens
From tint to true
My hands to cleanse
What’s left of you
To start anew

And do
What’s right