Query any poem you want.

Called forth from the background,

A little self abounds

with Countless coincidences,

of universal grounds

Finding itself truly alone.

Sleeping soundly

without care,

Seeing every thing  so clear.

Bearing the knowledge—

knowing the truth—

holding it all-

in your mind so recluse—

                                 with the utmost of sincerity.

Diving into the fog,

                                to gather rampant anomalies.

Spiralling into the centre

                                  to gather more philosophies.

Puzzled by the mystery.

Stumped to find an answer.

Searching on tirelessly.

Trying to understand her.

We are seemingly…

trapped in the nothingness

longing for the somethingness

hoping for the emptiness to fill its own cup—

…until the cycle reverses.

Strokes of fate with inner leanings,

endless circles of symbolic meanings.

Destined to a calling,

Yet extricate ourselves from it,

despite constantly falling,

we keep on without quit

Vitality and desire

Demanding us to start

Pedal to the metal

In a race for another’s heart

The crossroads never seemed

so confusing or so massive

as when there is no map

that shows us  our own passage

yet every fork we come to

we begin to  get discouraged

and every mistaken turn we make

we seem to lose the courage

yet why is it that at the lowest of lows….

the bottom of the Pit.

 

Is where the strength to rise sits?

To climb the mountain’s slope, to endure this journey upward,

and not hold a microscope to everything eternal.

One day when we fall ,

We will rise again.

Every so often

a quest begins

to grow further,

 to seek more.

We hold on to the hope of one day finding the answer,

as we blind ourselves with enlightenment;

 as we cannot see the sky has left us behind.

As we fall deeper, we peer skeptically into the abyss

as it looms closer to us,

we fear drowning within it,

yet there is nothing we can do.

Every so often we are overcome by fate ,

and yet we live on.

The path to the future is endless

as it leads on and on--

from a deceiving point of view.

We know that the future

is right in front of us,

    Yet…

           it feels as though

                    it has never existed.

One day

     when we fall

We will rise again.

  Alone we stand;  

     without reassurance

    As if possessed by intense loneliness,

        We clutch on to our only friend—

      our thoughts,

    emotions,

      and perceptions.

                   We swim without direction;

 

               finding ourselves trapped within

     

the cyclical repetitions of our own solipsism.

So we continue to grow,

and our minds weigh us down

as we question the weight of the world all around.

We struggle to grasp

everything that surrounds us;

and we begin to realize,

it’s this world that impounds us.

We look upon the world ‘s loveliness,

noticing all its complex beauty and ugliness.

This leaves us with a feeling of bewilderment

and an urge to understand it all...

The only problem is

we do not know

the first step that we should  take.

We feel as if our inner voice

is always trying to speak.

But before it gets a word out,

It’s silenced with critique.

Is there a way out of this confusion?

Any safe passage beyond the illusion?

Just as the sun sets and rises,

And the moon shows its face os disguises,

The cycle will always repeat over again,

We just need to learn how to live now and then.

And never forget we will rise again.

But  first we all must fall.