Exemption,

Only the mad
can wrestle the self
and rise,
a victorious flame
from the furnace within.

The tempered soul
must lose to himself,
or crumble
beneath the gravity
of his own becoming.

To win
is to vanish
from the prison of self,
to slip past the mirrors,
to unname the name.

And who
but the mad
dares such beautiful ruin?

Who
but the mad
would trade reason
for release?

==
T