Turnabout




Turnabout

We occupy a nearly rancid roost within our piglet brain,
cleaved to a bogus and hideous sense of self, that ever squeals
and squawks, and grabs at things that arn't it's own. The men most sane,
humane and bright, make tracks toward more Vertical ideals.

The bane of change, is that we're torn from places where we've bought
in deep, with plans to run the show. Inertia and ill-will
accompany all efforts made to shift longstanding thoughts.
Mustering the willingness for tasks one doesn't want to fill

is critical, and creating psychic energy takes all
one's time, but finally throw a tether on one's endless fantasies.
A mind that finds a means to crawl away from Ego's thrall,
will find a peace surpassing all the doubts that dance and tease.

The world could be united by a universal god,
but simian egos, world wide, all claim to have their own.
Not found outside in 3D land, all souls possess a pod
that holds a seed that grows as truths are grasped and known.

No cut and dried assumptions have a place, where new extents
are home to aspects of miraculousity and grace.
The taint the Ego leaves obliterates all other scents.
It must be scraped and scrubbed to banish every trace.

A crucible that holds our depths of knowledge, consumate
character, and our love, partly describes our holy Soul.
Most folks show little care of what goes in. To try and sate
their Ego's junkfood appetites, they'll end their lives a troll,

Their sullied innocence, assures that glory and rapture
will never grace their Being. Rightness is REAL, and Honor means
a righteous interface with Truth. Stern effort made to capture
and oust all relics of false Persona's sick self-love, both cleans

away the rusted hulks and makes fresh spaces to create
a gantry to drink your fill from conscious wells of Light.
To de-personify all points of view, allows inate
identity, a silence to make known its depth and height.