Let This Pilgrim's Sin, Inaugurate Poem by Mark Heathcote

Unnerve! Mine-eye
That I might see
That hand that stirs
Upon an unequivocal sky and sea;
Lead me through that lowly pastoral gate.
Let this nomad's world abate.
His pagan heart that still incurs
A nonetheless same fate;
He who's nightfall is far from dark
He that a brims the stars black golden art
In his ordinance of grace
Show thy non-illusory, immaculate,
Stonemasonry, despotic, face
Unleash thy duel forked lightning.
Scythe mine nomads world, abate:
Let this pilgrim's sin, inaugurate.