05 December 2014

Four Hundred and Thirty-Three


Likely these thoughts and others of a similar ilk will not appeal
If you lack a certain yearning for the end of absurdity,
And the bliss of oblivion beyond the pale.

* * * *
Once god is postulated real and true,
Eventually that god must wonder how it came to be,
To which the only indivisible answer is you,
And you do not know squat, either.

* * * *
Consciousness forms every mind in its own way,
Based on whatever languages and mythologies
Are available in the winds of the given time.

* * * *
You have invested so much in so many things,
And now you must somehow let it all go
To discern that which you truly are.

* * * *
In the ultimate sense, there is not anything
You have not done, said, or thought.

* * * *
In the journey to Self-discovery,
Any other can only direct you so far.
The final steps are for you to make alone.

* * * *
Not likely any given middleman
Will ever direct you towards the truth
Without exacting one pretty penny or another.

* * * *
The senses are akin to a video game,
A virtual reality fleetingly considered existence.
To believe, or not to believe, is, indeed, the only question.

* * * *
In whatever time is left, what will humankind
Make of its wayward journey through consciousness?
What you would give for a time machine to watch it all play out.