Prisons of Fear

Ghosts of experience,
pain once felt forever present
lurks in one's mind-cell,
refracting light from
mirrors on all sides of experience.

Even while concealed beneath ethereal fog,
huddled with festering scabs of trust abandoned,
patience anticipates the hour glass of courage draining.

Shades of agony parade in shadows
as sands of time and space await to trigger fear,
knowing such torturous weaponry
remains far greater than pain itself.

Easing forth as doubt and despair,
dread enters theses reflective walls invisible to light,
empty of its own reflection,
its image but a moist acknowledgment atop the lip,
Inside the arm's cavity,
Beneath the groin.

Yet…

Like the wolf we never see,
the tornado never heard,
the smoke without odor,
emotions too can be elusive,
even though never void of reality.

For some…

Feelings. being of cognitive strength,
overcome such dominance,
evading emotion's fear,
breaking out from shackles and bars
into rational passion's embrace,
where one's mind will still remember well

the once dank prisons of fear,
retired now as yesterday's obscuring of truth,

left to languish as misleading permanence.

Thus, enters the mystical initiating birth of reverence,
impelling us to love unqualified
that personage who loves us most.

Hence the eidolon of oneself rises,
hooking any and all with holy dread
of teachings unsolicited by a lamb

of duplicitous intent.

Ethereal smoke and mirrors?

Perhaps.