Precision

Posted on March 4, 2014 by Helen

English: Nearly octahedral diamond crystal in matrix. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have cut glass with diamonds precise
I have drawn secrets out of closed eyes
They are made puppets of my device
They hope for fire, I give them ice

With my precision they hardly bled
Of all their history so little said
They hoped for life but found me instead
Here in the labyrinth see how they’re led!

I make it perfect, I make it art
I’m at conclusions while others start
I’m of the mind while they’re of the heart
I’m where your loss and confusion depart

I have cut souls with wisdom precise
I lay to waste without thinking twice
I’m not compassion, I am not nice
You’ll pray for fire, I’ll give you ice

About Helen

I'm drawn to blogging as a way to share ideas and consider what makes us who we are. Whether it's in our working life or our creativity, expression is a means to connect.

View all posts by Helen →