Press your heart's blood on each piece,
Coax from them the long low tune
Of secret words and hopes unsheathed.
In that silent symphony lose
The shackles of soundless grief.
Against the fear seen by none at all,
That hounds you and the weary road,
Keep your path, face the sentinels
At every gate with head unbowed.
Stride forward and heed not the call
Or grip of terrors old.
No past discordant chords foretell
The future; No urging fear shall
Direct my fate.
From past to
Future the thread lies broken
And I have choices to make. or so I wish; so I hope.