Emotions carry us farther than we can bear
A wind in the sail’s worth more than a prayer in the veil for pains they can’t assail
An anti-climactic didactic prophylactic
A flare in rarefied air to spare us something tragic
A gun in a face is quicker than a bid in a race
But the magi’s pace declares we walk in grace
A paradox that devours our inner space; An obstacle in the eternal chase
Semiautomatic statements ring in fear of their replacements
A disproportionate response to our stance in the matrix
A spark in the dark; a disturbance in the stasis
In time we find there’s little to do but face it
Yet the universe awaits us to embrace it
The fear of self is yet understood
A limitation in man for its own good
A demarcation from the great “I Am” that limits the mind but keeps alive the sensation that through it all
An emotion made whole through stages
A footnote in a tome of ages
The blood of creation rushes through the veins of all nations but its fixation that keeps them from the equation
Its the false pursuit of sensation
The sequence in relation to one’s self
The storehouse of our inner wealth
Questioning the foundations hidden beneath tribulations
reveal the source of our frustrations
Signs of a torrential rain that expels our inner pain and supplements what we’ll gain
The transmutation of grief into vitality through the manifestation of self in totality
A swell pushing from our inner hell to the outer limits of reality set forth by the palpitations of our spirit rejecting finality
A Blessed curse to those who fear it
The amalgamation of eons of evolution filling and bursting with absolution warping causality
