Incremental - Byzantine

The lessons are severe

The pains of growth are needed

I do not posses the knowledge

By shielding myself from the rain

We bloom above the thorns we need

From the onset we ripen and rot

We know the bitterness of the soil

From intertwining long ago

The sign of things to come

The pleasure inside the suffering

Now guide the broken compass

Back to the point where you most learned

We bloom above the thorns we need

From the onset we ripen and rot

We know the soil’s bitterness

From intertwining long ago

No more shall the weeds choke me

In increments I expand my horizon