The deluge of spirit

Springing life in the meadow of mind, The height they climb thickens a stare, And the valleys of deep washed with rain. The village beneath flooded by woe, The doves still fly and the mountains reside. Those on the hill in somber and tear, Whenceforth I write the sickening sight, The deluge has come as the lamb once said: "All that's wicked will soon be cleansed." Cast to the thunders that roll beneath, for nothing else enters the iron den. See oh see insanity rots, when held unstable the mind always drops, The levee breaks open and the fire brews hot. How do you return to empyrean grace? The divine in the mind which lay beneath your eyes, calls you with fear, follow with cheer. And away from the crow that deceits you with might. Soon you'll touch that star dancing bright.