White

The positional freedom
rests at the end
of personal struggles
to redeem time
which hasn't yet been recognized
as lost.
sitting blindly in a cylinder of
lazy living
comfortable complacency
and the blatant scent of mediocrity,
finding no relief, no rescue,
and no rest
in my self made kingdom.
the knowledge of it's impermanence
echoes round my mind.
still blissful ignorance remains
my stead.

wisdom raises her
pretty head
beckons my time, my heart,
my home,
lustful entrances interrupt
my thoughts
seeping through citadels
I've built
crashing gates of self
preservation made from
decisiveness, determination,
fortitude.

humanity cries as only it can -
barely heard
barely cared
barely there
It whispers its
hiding place,
its secret place.
I shove it back.
Embarrassed that you
might know I even
have such a place

Sin creeps in
in disguise of pride
-is a good thing,
it boasts
keeps you in front, adored,
revered

I should have known.
True Goodness never needs
to boast.

Proverbs 8