POEM: The Turquoise Sword

[pert -5]

The Turquoise Sword
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Born of all intent you rise
To cleave a path into the skies;
To fight for Love, thy child's fire,
Which ne'er falters upon the pyre.
Much be known in things of three
The guise of splendid harmony.
A door to riches of special breed;
Gold which only the heart can heed.
Wielded by my faith in God
You form a path that few shall trod.
The road to know of Sorrow's cause;
Elude the bite of failure's jaws.
Holy blade of greenish hue
You pass above the morning dew;
Aim directed at restriction:
Pain of Joy, the wound's infection.
Forged within the brilliant white
To gain your home by way of might
You guide me up on that sacred way
To bring that Truth to the light of day.