"I will lead the blind by ways they have not known,
along unfamiliar paths I will guide them;
I will turn darkness into light before them and
make rough places smooth. These are the things I will do;
I will not forsaken them"
Isaiah 42: 16
The knowledge of our world ends where?
At its very core root;
an ability to exceed takes the word blind.
Blindness
"blind street"
A grove that ends hollowed out by the
mass interception of natures wit.
It could not follow by everything's path.
But the blind man who could not see
had brought depth over definition.
A little bit of bread taken.
"Or what fellowship has light with darkness? "
To his existence, the survival of everything
was also in its way, like a prism, illuminating
widespread journeys.
Being human, where is our ability to limit ourselves?
Our very origin begins to falter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem