carte blanche.

in the land of crosses, the treasure remains. 
thine eyes shyly
peering over the edge, looking upon the page-
       --stained with false icons;
               a misprint of time.
just some free-spoken letters in a row
good_but not enough to 
                    resist this 
          /humbled/fumbled/ unprovable leap of (dis)belief
                   churning what's actual to
                   quell our shine and 
                   release my hand, for thy desires turn 
                              these fickle sails 
                                       that guide the way.