To be dangerous, be good.

Be not harmless, not that lie you tell others. In your heart is darkness, anchored within the depths of hell, you are human, all are. In your soul, shining bright, like terrible death, is a blade, burnt in hellfire. Wield it, but keep it always well sheathed. Shining yellow and red, its flamed obliterative heat.

Be dangerous, a hazard capable of inflicting great and terrible harm, a stumbling block, and ambush for the enemies of you and of mankind, within your soul and outside of it. Capability, have within, for anything, and to any necessary puzzle, be prepared to answer.

Be wild, untamed, incorporate within you, your shadow, the darkness you pretend isn't there, and bring the demons within your mind and soul under your own well chosen control.

Be not harmless, be capable of great harm, but, be a warrior, firm, and disciplined, aware of the monster that stares calculatingly back from your abyss, train him by the destructive light of truth, subject yourself to what is right, enslave yourself to the prompts of good. For no human being is harmless, the everyday man is deceptive, but like good soldiers, they can firmly and consistently endeavour and choose to only do good.

The first ever cause, logic breaks down, could not be an effect?

Cause and Effect, an illogical idea, at the beginning of the universe
Poem by Marc Evan Aupiais

Tick Tock. The clock did stop.
Cause. Effect. Until the start.
A big bang, or a tiny grain of sand.
It matters not.

Go far enough back, there must always be a cause.
Something, a start, to continue to, dominoes, cause and effect.
But take infinity, call it X.
What happened before X.
What was the first cause of effect.
For something must have caused it too,
But nothing can have, there must be a first,
And this is it.

What is logic? Cause and effect.
To be logical, the foundation must be firm, it must be sound,
And that foundation must cause an effect, the specific effect, it must follow.

And yet, the entire universe is a non sequitur. It does not follow.
And neither science: cause and effect, can explain an effect without a cause,
And nor can magic: for magic is mechanical in its thinking, the precursor to science, it believed that one act, whether ritual or effective, certainly would cause another.

And whether a big bang, steady state, multiverse, or ever repeating loop, something must have brought it into being. A first knock upon the movement, the cause and effect we call time, for without energy, entropy would break the clock, even one in a circular loop. Without some outside cause for its effect, some source, all movement would stop.

What else is left? For time is cause and effect?
But then something not bound by time, must have had an effect. For, what caused X, what caused the first slight or great movement of time? The clock stops, for by its logic we know not its cause, the cause of logic, or time, of before and after, of cause and effect.

Either that, or logic, the patterns we observe as absolute, is neither universal, nor much but a precursor, like magic.
For the very first cause, logically, could not be an effect.

Careless tumbles the barrel of time

Careless tumbles the barrel of time,
Foolish have been my decisions.
Broken, rusts the armour of mine,
Painful, the thrust of misericord,
Piercing through my protective barriers.

Sometimes, it is over, good has met its end.
You try to fight on, ghostly, despite a mortal wound.

And as I stand upon the field,
Quite accounted for.

It is time I admit it is over. To safety, I hope to flee.
My life, my hope, my faith in tact,
But my heart shattered like brittle stone.

Such a promise has life

Such a promise has life; swirling, twirling, spinning.
Such a treat it promises; diminishing returns.
Such power; cannot but acquiesce.
And waves rush over you, and pull you deeper in.

And scaled tales, mermaids, or snakes,
Drag you further, deeper, farther,

And in you go, you lose your breath,
And your will is no longer your own.
And the freedom of God's creatures,
Is not your freedom anymore,

But, such a promise has life; swirling, twirling, spinning.
Such a treat it promises; diminishing returns.

And I stand on the roughened sand beach, near
Broken beer bottles, and signs of decay.

And in the winds, I slowly start to sway.
And life beckons, amidst the waves,
And through tears, I head towards them.

But, I stop. Ahead, scales, shining things in waves,
Beauty, tinged with eternal romance.

But I stay, where I am, and sway.
I do not enter the waves.