Crooked Comet

One day, every Self will ask, " Am I content to die asleep
in treadmill mode, while tethered to a grim go-nowhere grind?"
We'll know that our demise will not include an outbound leap,
and if we ever reappear, its with a lesser mind.

A lasting upbound path is wise, compared to fits of rant and rage
that come of living lost in meaningless goolaush. That place
where piper debts and petty crap are off the guage,
there your throne awaits, unless you turn your face toward Grace.

The inner Light's your own, but you will always be a pawn.
Unpromotable because the creature that you are,
though meant to struggle free from sleep with psychic sword up-drawn,
is stubborn as a gasless car, to stalk and slay Persona's czar.

As ends run true to origins, things happen in the only way
they can. (no veggie seed brings forth a fruit). Alone of all
Earth's fauna, men were meant to shape their thinking, day by day,
until the mind they started with, is dutiful and small.

Its then, the seed from which they bloomed, fulfills its destined end.
Divinity, self grasped, (but not self owned), is deep in one's core,
and can assist the thrust to gain the tools we need to mend
the tears our errors make. Without repair, we'll never soar

in meta-conscious Light. Ya think a price might be a part
of our design? For eighty years, most people scrape along,
without much yen to think creative thought, but for the arts
of getting laid and buying pretty things. It would be wrong

to say that they don't care, They're just too numb to understand
this time on Earth is dayshift, for what we came to do.
I wouldn't dare to pass from earth with lazy, artless, unworked hands,
lusty lips and scheming eyes, and head without a clue!