what exactly does it mean to be in balance?
is it that moon offers equal portion with the sun?
is it evil’s turn when our pure goodness has won?

we are not careful enough with what we think we know
for we desire to reach a balance with arrow and bow
one eagering forward by the other drawing back

details performed to find flow in what is stagnant
so that we release to world the energy of our eyes
fixed for watching arrows soar far into the skies

on what ground or beast has that arrow’s life disturbed
and which shoulder has a million times been perturbed
by the repetition of these hard muscular contractions?

where is the balance in you I must always ask?
do you rage when the coyote’s tooth cuts the deer?
how much of the world is painted in lie or in fear?

all day the arrows are racing through the skies
empty hopes, religious dreams, inspiring lullabies
confidence, that Babylon of Whores, ever rhyming sings.

for this is what seems to be the balance and awakening
feet in the ground and head in the clouds of heaven,
wrath of your god against your devil’s expression

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