A fold

There is a corner of my mind

a fold perhaps where awareness winds

and all around my thoughts are kind,

but there I stop to twist beneath the pain

It's good to think of sin as thus, one torn

among a world of rose, but when one thinks

as honest must, he see one rose the torn's enclose

It's bud is like an open door from which emits a

shaft of light, and in one dark corner its light does pour

until it drives away the night