The Task

What has, will and can be seen Feeds at root in crimson pools Through all These binding waters flow By channels interwoven Without a fear of severance When horizon sun beheads Would leave endless days of drought And dust to keen Through our hollow husks In pillars made of flesh and bone In repose and undisturbed Would rot our hearts unwrung Though clouds are licked by flame From the fiery tongues of man unhinged Ruin that's sought may buried be By all bodies in love entwined Risk our hands in others' held To be seen Stripped and raw Under threat of rending blows The task of souls imbued with light Risk our hands in others' held