This is the view from the inside looking out:
DISTORTION
I am trapped inside my own being
Walled in by my blind doing
My actions unseeing
I still speak as a child
Still see through this glass darkly
Seen as "meek and mild"
But do I choose it? Hardly.
For so long I have waited
Dreamed, wished, anticipated
the day that I would be liberated
from this carnal jail cell
But with a deep and silent wail
of anguish
I realize to languish
in self-pity, sorrow, and laziness
(Ok, so there lies one key to my distress)
is to do the True Me an injustice
Because the True Me is still subject
to the chains of the mental structures of my past life
the soulish shackles hold me so tight
Laughably, I find myslef returning the favor
simply, inexplicably desiring to savor the familiarity of my flesh,
even knowing that the end of it is death.
And therein lies the hilarity
of it all.
Oh, the complexity
Or better yet the foolish simplicity
of the wretched being that I thought was me.
She just holds the essence of me incarcerated.
Now that you mention it... I *YET* search out the holy earthquake
that will irrevocably shake
these prison doors open.
AND THEN I will walk
Unbound and Wholly Broken.
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