Ars Poetrica

Toinght I saw
The spinning world
Suddenly clear,
With which came
The urgent need to claim
To renounce, to step into the light,
Blood cleansing the impurities,
Disinfection by fire.
Burning the flesh
To dance among the spirits
Once again.
Rebirth to the essence of
Ars poetica.
Chained no more,
I rise from the bed,
Wrap a robe around my form.
Your breathing
Deepens into contented sleep,
And know not the confirmation
That has taken place.