Samsara

We created a matrix
You and I

Its tendrils make me want to die

The bramble I once tore away
from round my heart
in quick decay…

You seeded it to sprout again
Although your hand knew not its sin

The bramble fills my life with pain
It makes my soul a gnarled terrain

There’s grief and anger within my rind
There’s molten lead lodged in my spine

I cannot even find the tears
to wash away the lead that sears

I’m despondent in my agony
I cannot think, or make mine eyes to see

And yet…
And yet..
I can’t blame you

You grasp not the honesty or faith that I do

I should have been wiser
I should have kept firm

Yet because of my folly
it is now, I must burn

Drink at the Fountain

The Apostle has said
“You ought be as I am”
Without bondage, attachment,
no limbs in the sand

Surely, my state would be careless and free
Yet how would I empathize with any creature like me?

To know vulnerability
the pain of cold loss
Must I not pass this gauntlet before I take up my cross?

To die to the world is a thing quite profound
but to partake of its fruit, one’s mind must be sound