Quoted By:
Alone to atone for the winter and bone
From its sheath was it pulled
Sharpened, yet dull
And the cutting once known
Born of wounds now not yet sewn
Were but memories of fading to past
Then at last did I see
That the memory was me
And my heart nor my head was forlorn
But the absence of wit
Born of valiance and grit
Forged to fight off a phantom named foe
Nay, a nightmare not here
Nor a dream unaware
But a mind made for witness to bare
That my conscience was God
Whence an angel did nod
To acknowledge what was already known
