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Phil John Kneis:
VERITATIO - FIRE III:
FIRE WALKS WITH ME
(ENNEALOGY, PART ONE OF NINE)
Eichwalde, 14th May, 1997 - P#59
I.
Around I check and seek for new,
What once was past I thought now flew
Away to give just room to life,
The old away cut with a knife,
A knife of light and bright so clear,
Not darkness then but future sheer,
A time to live and time to pray,
A time to seek a better way,
A way of rocks not, but of skies,
Of skies that show what truth just lies
Behind the scene, not yet to show,
But now to learn and then to know.
What else will be? What else I wait
That it may come through heaven's gate
And show what secrets lie behind
What is believed the Fathers mind,
Creator He and Son and Saint,
The One whose words we are to send
Through all the time and places here,
But our words can't come His near.
II.
What can I do? What is it then
That I should do in this great plan?
Shall I believe? Shall I deny?
Shall stay at home or far just fly?
Away the sorrow, fear and doubt?
Not silent then, but crying out
What's wrong and right in our time,
What is to do, where lies the line
That not to cross, not to ignore,
That lies behind the boiling shore
What we call "now" or "present" then,
What holds the truth of "if" and "when";
The future locked behind this door
And nothing's known behind this shore.
The questions come and go and stay,
They won't just easily away
And off my mind go then, but, no;
The thoughts are burning though and show
What fire lies beyond this all,
What fires fight behind this wall.
III.
The heat of thought burns down the mind,
A heavy blast of ancient kind
Will every time go out to strike
And far off trail we then will hike,
Just leaving ground and go away,
Away from where we once to stay
Believed and hoped - but change is then
Of all the times a gift to man
But dangerous and striking slow,
A strike that no one once will know
It came at all, and where and if,
The thoughts then weary, weird and stiff,
A step to madness, seems so small,
The bridge to take, it seems to fall,
The ground to shake and skies come down,
Not safe seem now one's house or town,
Not rooms, not walls, not love will bear
The weight of dark; and hope, so rare,
Will vanish quickly, not renewed,
And dumb will be what once was shrewd.
IV.
No holds remain, no sacreds hold,
The sound of terror will enfold
And take away what's left of all,
The works and aims to nowhere fall,
The fire burns away what's left,
No great a deal, just simply theft,
It takes away what past has told,
The private lots will soon be sold,
No time to run, no time to go,
No time to fight it eas'ly so.
The darkness laughs and fire's dance
Will triumph then. A final lance
Will hit just soon, it's now prepared
And heated well, and well quite cared -
The fire walks with me once more,
It walks right down to darkest core,
The soul might cry, the face will grin,
A grin of evil, well, of sin,
So old a word, so old a theme,
A theme what is but true to seem.
V.
The fire walks with me and burns,
To evil now all good just turns,
It tries, well, tries but can't it fail?
What mad or bad can just prevail?
And justice then, it works too slow,
It comes now down, once was to vow
To take all men and force and time
To fight with all the ways this line,
The line this time, that is, when crossed,
The line that marks the life that's lost.
It's lost to force, lost to the dark,
Not proud and bright, but empty, stark,
No way to love it, see it loved,
A statue that is grimly carved
With lines so hard and corners edged,
The time to come is nowhere matched,
Nowhere is said what waits behind,
What waits and comes to lead the blind,
The blind to truth and blind to Light;
No force to fight, but hope just might.
VI.
Away the sorrow, 'way the fear,
Now vanish, dismay, don't come near
And stay just far, don't need you more -
The force that once to drear me tore,
So go now, fire, this now hear -
Attacking me you did from rear,
But now I see you, saw your face,
And saw the fury in your gaze.
Ain't human I? A will I have?
A fury like I now shall rave?
To Kill? Destroy? Or break the hearts?
Or minds of people? Just like darts?
A game of blood, of cruelty?
A game against humanity?
Inhuman fire, walk with me,
But every time I want to see
Which line to cross and which to hold,
Old Nick from hell throw in the cold!
But gratefully I thank the Lord
That for my soul again He fought.
April 2th, 1999
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