Journey of the Timeless Soul
This is a collection, so each poem has its own tie-in to the message of my title.
Journey of the Timeless Soul
Avarice or Admiration?
The tumultuous ring of cerebral start
Lead the sturdiest to run toward the mart.
What is greed when analyzing a want?
Is it insecurity or the heart's taunter
Or the piercing slay of spoil
Which would lead one's life to function in a toil?
The origin of desire
From the blue flame of a fire
Or icy depths?
Always different.
It burns
It makes one taciturn
They try their best but cannot acknowledge
Their fraudulence
As individuals.
Everyone has their own fuel
It's inevitable that we look at another's tool
We voyage toward improvement
Only to attain approval.
Yet too late do we understand
Mimicry, mockery, all shapes to copy
Recreation of persona does not work
One must always do their best
Or at least attempt
To stay true.
The Condensing Castle
This sudden urge, an intuition
Is brought to a great fruition.
But only when it is protected and secure
In the palace at the mind's shore.
These faculties of which
Should lay in the sand
Sinking into contemplation
A neural culture's syndication
Merged in this consternation
Where the rampant ideas thrive and dive
But then they leave the ocean and resume their lives
In the palace at the mind's shore.
In the sequence of humanity
That are for thousands planned
Built throughout each solitary grain
All with their own brand
To wriggle through life
All ideas fit together when reproached
But then comes obstruction to the goal
And society would take the toll.
The screech for aid
The need for shelter
The residents cannot help but fade.
A tidal wave has hit the palace at the mind's shore.
At last, by sheer power
Emanating from the ocean's core
By the duty of force
And wind that roars
This sandcastle in time
Is, was, and will be
Nothing more.
A Changing Force
Instincts of nature come not stalling
These forever decisions in which the mind has calling
A cylindrical theme of life involved with an imminent rise and falling
That in which we cannot see, yet feel and have known to be.
All our trust might be in pulsations with origin of heart
But does it detail our next move or simply indicate its start
Such sensational demands require a briskness of thought
To do what is felt, but yet to be known
The mind must surely be taut.
A sway of thoughts and feelings are the human symbol
And being as people have been the force that changes terrain and air
Shall it be us that betters the world or will we turn it to despair;
It is the same function which saves us from our fate
May all find this tender truth from within
But what if the mind had been changed too late?
Hence, each of our worlds face their own tragic end
Because we as a people had been unable to transcend.