Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Closer to the Truth

His pride is gone
His eyes are dry,
Who is this guy
And does he come or go along
Unconscious of his leaving?
What tricks are up his sleeve?
Does he believe or self deceive?
The sentiment of bereavement
Brought his heart into the present
For all along his mind hath been repentant
For the past part of him slithering off a serpent, never enough
Backdrop to a third eye now fully open-
All the while
Not until now, without guile
Recoiling in horror
Taking cover
In the unapologetic truth
Of ruthless, couth emerging energy
Of this manly stand
That decides
And weighs decisions
Without fearing the future patchwork incisions
Without needling with suspicion his own indecision-
Rather, nurtures with patience
Taking down the gates that fence in the self pressuring with self prophesizing demands
No longer holding onto former plans
And pipe dreams
That like jail bait weights have shackled
Not allowing for new free form to pick up steam,
A side narrative slowly molding into
Once upon a time a charming lad
A bad caricature for the outside world
To see
And make a mockery of
Someone less than a man sitting behind bars
He himself locked up by the self deceit of scars
Running through error with an empty heart,
With an unfastened, frenzied mind, no longer
For here stands a man
That does not fabricate hope
Nor falsify
That does not laugh at life's greatest treasure
From the loitered dust sparsely glittered with childish notion
That has kept him holding onto
Historically repetitive antics
Desperately frantic
Follow up
Self deprecation
Out of fashion,
Here stands a man, now in season
Picking up the pieces, seeing
Glittering his life
Feeling the
Magic in his soul.

No comments:

Post a Comment