The destination
of human
is towards the end of days

every other direction
is derelict
ablaze

paths surround
The Merciful
like an ancient maze

I feel broken
and lost
in this strange phase

there is a craft,
an art, one vocation
to captivate your empathic, reflexive gaze

purify your profession
burn a nothing door
into praising that which
alone is deserving of praise