said to erase all soot,

start over white

like a newly born

ready to bear leaves green.

said that a requirement

must be met, for such a gift!

of dying to worldly lust,

and what does that mean?

asked the little snake to the larger one

it bore no shame nor sacrifice,

having met hell and lived through it

was quite the tatter tale when

clarity was like a prism, a promised rainbow

rolled backwards, what grating sound comes

out of that hollow pipe.

no dream, no nothing, the end is near

thus the story was as tall as the sky,

deep as a human’s heart

following the same old tune

of more is better. but never a sacrifice.

yikes, who wants that!

the laughter could be heard

from hollow words,

vibrating – a tremor perhaps

it was not a good vibe

and of crushed pearls, of dust

blown to the wind, that i do know,

once scattered, once brought home

to hellish mockery of what did transpire.