The gift of words

by Mark Lee   Dec 31, 2006


How does an old soul express oneself?
Pass on to others your experience of heartaches
As well as the conquering of all tribulations
In what manner shall I share my life ventures?

For I have climbed the highest mountain of emotions
To topple aimlessly to the cold barren ground below
Time, and time again
However, my spirit holds no space for bitterness

I have stood at the summit of the valley of
Hopes and illusions, my trenchant sword
Of truth, poised in hand to battle the face
Of manipulation whose blade shines with deception
Although being the victorious, still I walk away humble

I have spit in the face of conformity
And bathed in the essence of rebelliousness
For me and persecution are no distant strangers,
At a venerable time in life images of happiness
Have been clung to in desperation
But the swift smack of reality across the face
Still burns my cheek to this day

A raging dragon showed me many sights
And said decide for yourself what is purely evil
A silken white swan appeared and she endowed
Upon me many visions, saying interpret for yourself
What is truly wholesome and good
For outside these dual forces radiate
Inside the silence of your spirit , you will know
Which is true and what is false

And how shall one be remembered?
After the persona of this life has turned
To ashes and dust, look into the freedom
Of the sky, feel the wind blow and listen
To me whisper inspiration through the soothing
Flow of the breeze, for I have said before
When death comes calling, it is to the sky I will
Live in eternal union with

At times the phrase nobody knows me has been
Branded upon my conscience, possessing the
Golden chest of knowledge from experience
Has taught me how to cope

How can these things be told?
With the finest present of all
Requiring no price tag, it is the offering
Of my words, for words are truly a gift������������.

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