Soulfire

Whether walking down a surf-washed wharf

in the bitter cold under grey skies,

or crossing through a quiet glen

with warm sunlight in my eyes,

naught but True purpose gives comfort.

Proceeding towards a real plan

begotten by thought and patience.

I traverse dark alleys full of violence,

stand steadfast before the succubus..

Whipping ice crystals on an arctic wind

couldn't unsettle the comfort of Soulfire,

or quell it's righteous fury.