The Flute Of Destiny


Mark Andrew Holmes

Psyche concentrates, yogi-like and willy-nilly,

Following the flag of a flower pure and white like lily

Like greyhound or zombie, drawn inexorably forth

Reaching out as the lure recedes before her

Toward the light, to which Eros guides her;

But what kind of light is she destined to embrace—

Black, white, gray, or something different altogether?

And what does he want, to draw her forward like this?

Unknown, but we know that the banner, projected from her,

Is pure, eternal and uncorrupted.

© 2011 by Mark Andrew Holmes.

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