Purify
Set me free oh quiet one,
Lend me a hand of mercy
Pull me out of pity
Here in these pits of tar
Here, in the lands of the dead
Many venture to live outwardly
Yet unknowingly being guided astray
Without knowing to look within
There where the compass of fire lays
In the densest of fog it is waiting
Turning the muddy ponds crystal clear
The highest peaks become visible and reachable
And the poisonous of snakes wither and sneer
For the fire within purifies all that is above the earth into gold
Michael Aquilina 29.10.2023