Your Fate Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

No longer frozen in silent forests
Golden bow with silver arrows
Flight of the heart into recluse
Barren amidst the Gnostic myths
Rapacious words mean nothing
Broken temples of hollow history
No rest only the endless flight
Do flowers grow in monastic bliss?
Paths to the river narrow and bold

Marble centuries burn like Rome
Oblivious bridesmaids stare in mirrors
Every vague reflection covers fear
Austere prophets regiment the clock
No conscience is sealed by Jerusalem
All the condemned parade their manna
Garlands of the new age dry in furnaces
Edifice of verity only balms the individual
There is no collective entrance

You must decide naked and alone
You are the man of all generations
Exiled in a place made of star dust
Regal purple wings taste the desert
No apothecary can bring the refuge
Salient winds bluster every roof
Everything built without blood cries
Self-preservation hides the awful abyss
Your fate is in your own hands