II. this will save you.

Our smoke settles like dancers come into repose
Breathe.
Swirling. Whirling. Soothing.
Lightning jousted there, with the rocks of the chasm
and magnificently, something was forged.
In the barrage sounds of the night, you heard
Music. Melody. Tone.
But what good is this, if it is not deliverance?
This menagerie is worth as much as a distant memory
or a yellowed photo.

Purge from your being the very doubt, which constrains you.
Smile.
Light. Luster. Gleam.
When the darkness pervades, and the light dissipates
cling to the languorous memories of times that illumed you.
Only this will save you from yourself.
Enemy. Adversary. Foe.
Breathe easy and the let the present swathe you.
What is coming and what has been are irrevocable,
like the first breath of man, or the hand of God.