Ancient Air

Lined in golden essence
A lamp as a our presence
Fire admits the way
We burn on Lord’s day

Love blankets the field
Fertile souls that yield
Dark alleys between the spires
Foggy windows known as liars

Save the material short
Find the lost bows court
Weave wheat burnt old
Into new loaf sold

Feel the fall of His sky
Cleanse thy tampered eye
Nail destiny of Born palms
Inspire the root of alms

Fix thine art
On my heart
Of war degrading word
That beauty was a bird

Read minds who voice
Those who speak of tranquil choice
Stay far from islands quiet
Strike my life a riot

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