Be advised, this may be only the first part of this little philosophical poem/story/outpouring of inner thoughts...
It is natural for a poet’s mind to study the concept of today’s struggle for impunity
What causes the masses to hack at the reins of tradition?
But then turn about-face and yearn for the “good old days”?
Inwardly, they seethe and boil with desires for power and wealth
Outwardly, they display little or no initiative, nor intimation of such covetousness
In contentment breeds discontentment, so read the papers
Those with the most to protect straight forth jeopardize this privilege
Lost in the labyrinth of concurrent confusion, the ova of wisdom is often fertilized
By the seed of genius injected through a light infiltrating the stygian pessimism of despair.
This same light may, as dispensed from a pulpit or altar by a successful purveyor of thought – an entity more capable of probing the human soul than any, save one.
It may filter through the intense writings of an historic philosopher, one who, while writing, was seeking the ultimate in expression of his own true pursuit.
Then again, it may be absorbed through this torture of a major personal loss, for there is no quicker awakening to the emolument of life…
To be continued...EVENTUALLY! *ED*