by Nick Gisburne
Be wary of the stars, the smoke of space
Uncertainty may spark a surge, a swarm
Accept your ashes from the painted place
Be joyful as you find your final form
You must not shirk the duties of our kind
The balance of reality is weak
When everything, yet nothing, fills your mind
Behold the gift, the sorcery you seek
Unbound, your thoughts are delicate, but dense
And when you know their purpose, you will free
An engine of illusion, so immense
That using it may shatter all you see
The power of your soul is in its song
Embrace it, find the balance, and belong
