Poems
August 3, 2026
V3.2English
Across these mountains, there is a path, the Witch told me.
There is secrecy around here, silence.
You have to find a path, across the waters, to find yourself, she told me.
I cried.
There I saw it.
And I felt every inch of it in my soul.
There was glory.
There was salvation.
Somewhere.
"What is wisdom?" the old man asked.
"Death," I said.
"What is going forward," the Witch asked.
"To falter," I told them.
"What is glory?" they asked.
"To become one," I said.
Then you may proceed.