altruism or something ... revised

Since I was sloppy before I will try to be neater ...



I'm not entirely sure what I'm on about, but I seem to be on about it:

Not with a million crucifixions

Nor a million tear-drenched nights

Nor a mountain of incense

Nor a prayer that never ceases

Will you ever save or free the world

Unless you free yourself.

This is a guarantee.

You have to cut the crap, now matter how sweet the songs;

'Why?' is the wrong question.

Walk past the precincts of praise and blame,

And free yourself.

Saving the world is not a matter of politics or politesse.

Forswear the dolors of the night,

Burn the book-marked pages,

Raise up the head that burrows in convenient sorrow.

Look things in the eye at last

And free yourself.

This is the price of saving the world, the burning brand.

Standing here, so far from home,

Where loneliness and crucifixion implore,

Learn the dance steps one by one,

The kindest leap or clearest breath,

And then, where all else fails at last, step off the cliff and know

That dancing has no partner and never, ever, was alone.