I approached the storm, the clouds are dark, and the air is cold.
No stranger to the darkness I ride along.
Attacked by deceit, wounded with pain
I carry the wrath of others sins for them.
Spears of guilt, threats of fear
strengthen the ego and pride.
Control is the illusion of grandeur,
a veil over the emptiness of despair.
Karma is my horse, and keeps me high above the mud.
I trust in Karma and he carries me safe
Those that fear, those afraid and weak,
loath the sight of Karma as it comes near.
Energy is either growing, or receding.
Death is welcomed by the receding,
growing energy cannot be stopped.
Impenetrable by death the light shines truth.
Truth is the evidence of action.
Trails of trust left by time and will.
Leave reminders that love causes change,
shining light into the darkest storms.
The clouds open for a moment.
When the sun shines the illusion is gone.
The fear is void and suffering ceases.
The weak all hide from themselves.
The wrath I carry is not mine to give.
Karma takes me where it must go.
With no anger I have no enemies
Anger first destructs it's host.
The power of the wrath breeds in fear,
multiplies in anger, and believes love weak.
The wrath I carry is not for my vengeance,
but those that take it, harm only themselves.
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