Halo bright, above my barbed out brow,
Light that whispers soft and mildly low,
Circles round, golden glowing bud of flame,
A symbol pure, without any random name.

Shadows tither linger at its very edge,
Where doubts arise, and secrets often hedge,
A path diverged, a line mayhap unclear,
Between the call of hope and severe fear.

For halos...