This Greater Pilgrimage
This pilgrimage of the heart entangles me,
Inside the isle of the soul is another soul,
Leaving us aside with blades roaring,
Daggers dangling with split fires.
The real pilgrimage exacts itself,
Falling is dying with a sign to do with death.
Go on with this lesser pilgrimage,
A bunch of roses shows treasure tonight,
This night dies with relief and death,
This night devils in those jokes of the ultimate
Fool - a good devil is a bad devil.
Without any form you speak and resist the ideas
From collapsing to see them aside.
You are with the sacred ones,
Faced by the demons and the devils all alone.
Let the greater pilgrimage be no laziness
To do with the air of heavy love,
One soul is not three or even ten,
But one soul is one flower or rose,
Sweeter to live with than another devil chained.
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