The Enemy

The enemy is at the gate;

the enemy I cannot hate.

The one who walks within the fire;

who walks within my funeral pyre.

There is no hate – there is no fear,

the path ahead is never clear

but if I walk the path I see

then my heart is clear and free.

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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