The Pendulum has swung over 378,432,000 times,
yet the migration of thought still continues.
The bird fly’s by instinct forth, back and forth again
Driven without will, without choice, never escaping the call.
Salmon journey or die yearly for what is deep rooted behavior
This is a sink or swim reality born of ancient drives.
Am I of feather or scale that subjects me to the same
Doesn’t intelligence outweigh instinct ,
how ingrained is the thought that refuses to give way?
One can take solace that as a constant there is no existence
But on occasion it is still there lurking in the depths,
seeking to come to the front and invade normalcy.
There is however one constant that lives in full view
And that is the solitude stemmed from causality.
That being the EFFECT of incomparable impossibilities.
No there is no substitution not even a glimmer of likeliness.
There is only The One, Irreplaceable within Perception, within Heart
Questions are formed while answers remain elusive.
In a Fairyland one would think it was a spell or maybe a perfect potion of Beauty
Brown with Brown mixed with Red accompanied with the sweet tones that entice.
Sing to me siren for the song has been gone so long.
The times of hunger still come upon me,
Even if it is less frequent, the power is still as it was.
There is one thing I am sure of
I am your prisoner sentenced to life
I will not repeal nor do I want to.
For my jail is scented with lotus
And my bed is filled with memories
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