The Continuity
Yet Love is a thorn to my peace, my serenity,
Even now it withholds from me, my intended journey,
I seek only finality, with this step will arrive immortality,
Even in perfect clarity, I am racked by insecurity,
Why am I still burdened by duty, by necessity!
Am I not my own master? Who can claim me as property!
Even in absolute resolution, my liberty smiles grimly,
Beckoning, taunting, will I ever be free?
Despair, my faithful companion, the fuel to my artistry,
My vision fails again, I impose my will on society,
And arise from the subtle bonds of cursed reality,
Universe of hypocrisy! What do you want of me?
Flee my friend, this is no place for Beauty,
It is to this end that my sightless eyes truly see,
What some men only witness in slumber, I grasp effortlessly,
To the pretentious fool is known all humanity,
You would understand, but your faith stumbles blindly,
Like all men of this land, cursed by perfectibility,
Existence in hand, God condemns free-agency,
Before the trinity I will stand, and will declare boldly,
That this impostor will not judge, he has no authority,
I am a man, in me is infinity and in all is continuity!
poem by Jeremy Cahoon
Added by Poetry Lover
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