The Sword of the Questor
from In Defense of Reason, 1987

My fears are symptoms of a disturbed mind
I am told, by the hourglass gaze.
We are born from pain
To cause pain, and feel the death-agony
Of a million million souls
Writhing on the skin of this world.

Like a lamb to the slaughter
My pseudo-innocence leads me
Into deeper waters,
Out of the reach of solid rock, stone.
The colours I am seen to wear
Are not the colours I choose to wear:
Circumstance has forced me on an
Unpopular path, and it seems as if
I must continue until my goal is reached.
Or the time of my death is upon me.

My dissolution feels so near tonight;
The blood in my veins sluggish, weak.
A single slip of the blade
And my troubles would be as yesterday –
But I do not have the right.
For all our faults, for all our errings,
We are God's children too.

As I look outwards for inner strength
I find that the answer to my seach
Has always been within me:
Be at rest, for out of this
Must come peace.