PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

And the whims of the undermind impart a law;

Governance rigid, and in restless complacence

We remain in knowing, but wanting more;

A release from our own makeup. 

And the bloodiest wars we wage on our own;

Casualties amassed to lost peace of mind.

Or perhaps we desert our timeless fight

And escape to the places that may subdue

Our ego-rattled bind. 

Ne'er dormant shall lie the critical mind, of

The fights it must have to survive. 

For surely to not fight must mean to die

And settle into a life refined. 

We look out onto masses who've lived and left

The breathing to remain unkind,

And such comfort we find in the age-old lie

That we depart in peace of mind. 

For who could persist to combat the 

Inconsistencies that lay in this mirror of mine,

Knowing that we will never achieve a whole end;

Tied neatly in elegant twine.