So hard to watch,
the folly and sway of thoughts
that lead a soul to finite ends,
the pain of harsh reproach,
and for the observer,
a play of script well known,
but no words can placate what’s sewn,
in the growing of a soul.
Like written in stone,
the future stumbles to its conclusions,
and those who see
cannot intervene with this show,
just let it alone
and let lessons bleach the skin,
under the sun of truth
where mercy is not known.
Knowing and seeing is a burden,
the thoughts of those so misconstrued
in action, desperate in deception,
to escape that bed they’ve made,
yet we must watch
as the ramifications are laid,
and the pain is undertaken,
and we, sharing it with those we love.
Repetition is a malignancy, and
lessons not learned in circumstance
come manifest in flesh;
and pushing to rid it just
the cause of further spread,
as acceptance is a fine thread
and will is not the answer.
Death becomes us all
when life is empty of learning,
and illness just a means of dispensation,
the journey to other realms
and perhaps back again,
to glean yet another life
and find the epiphanies required,
so that understanding becomes the sigh of relief.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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