Unfinished Business

One escape will always need another,
For truth is ugly, as dark and pure
As any diamond could tell you,
Its hardness is its cure.

The diluted shreds- merely ash, but
Dead, and growing fine-
They leave their roots upon the sky-
And upon illusions dine.

False fears breed false hopes,
Lust that never fails.
What began as bewitching glory
Ends as darkness pales.

To stab that beast when it was light
Would end it- bleeding and cold.
To enter it, and consume its rage
Would find me foolishly bold!

(At last, I walked to it, unarmed
And gave it up, resigned.
Perhaps I'm no good martyr
To take that hell to mind.)