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Soul Cry
Oh, how this soul awaits it's earth demise.
So weary... yea, so anxious to transcend
this flesh encumbering shell in which it's penned,
...a shell it must accept as a disguise.
Reactive so, to worldly theorize
which, while couched in innocent contend
had, nonetheless, retained its wayward trend,
...until that lower self gave vent to cries.
T'was then a strong compulsion did expand
it's mystic way within this sorry frame
...to burst it's way to upward in my mind.
T'was then I realized the Master's hand
was full at work to manifest reclaim
...this wayward soul whose earthly eyes were blind.
