Inside cold house where hate resides
Other lines from veins are drawn in blood,
By sweep of sword before lined sky,
Screams are heard before they die each day.
Deep inside the Soul a clean line drawn,
Contains a Word where truth breaths free,
In death-still darkness finds a rising Light,
Hope standing strong beside eternal dawn.
All lines drawn upon bare ground
Pass as dust beneath hot Sun,
Divide the One to Two unfound
Till at last a greater Whole becomes.