The Godhead

Feel the wind

in blessed sin,

the love we fold in woeful kin.

In blood and spirit,

kept in faithful crypt.

Oldblood and young,

vile and lowly sung.

Mind and soul,

both of body and wind,

bone and skin molds,

in flesh the spirit unfolds.

In colors and touch vividly spun

in reds of love, and black of anger,

forged and hewn.

In star fire the soul is forged ablaze,

The cold of consciousness,

once born never to fade

For in warring life and peaceful death,

Our fate lies in the Godhead's breath

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