Strange.
How we swim in a sea of projections.
Stranger still.
That we ignore our own reflections.
But most strange of all.
For we heed not, its shrill call.
If the angel, the light, is within.
Then so is the demon, the dark, the sin.
What I'm trying to say.
In my own special way.
Is that there's a time for play.
And a time to enter the fray.
Dispense with the namastes.
The love and light, so that we may.
Explore the subtler shades of grey.
The darkness too, made for us this day.
Be your own unique Self.
Not some commodity.
That gathers dust on a shelf.
Better to be the oddity.
Let none dictate the limits.
Of your very own imagination.
It's no wonder that we suffer.
Some kind of mass-confabulation.
Free your precious captive-heart.
Forever arrive, back at the start.
Venture forth into the great beyond.
Forsake the hive-mind. Yea, abscond.
You are your own subject.
Yet, still curiously enough.
Of your own enquiry, the object.
Your voyage needn't be so rough.
So. Rise to the call.
Fear not, that you'll fall.
Stand straight. Walk tall.
Furnish. The inner hall.
There's a reason to rejoice.
You're not going to slip.
It's essentially all a choice.
Let that be someone else's trip.
Take flight. Cease the crawl.
Avoid the lacklustre mall.
Life could be a party. A ball.
When you tear down that wall.
Ain't that hard to be You.
It's the true key to your health.
For then. And only then. Is when.
You fully become a Self.
Only You. Can truly ordain.
It's your truth, never refrain.
Forget society at large.
Set sail. On your very own barge.
Be an individual.
And eternally reap the residual.
Once you make your own amends.
It's a well-spring of dividends.
My friends, I tell you this.
A warrior of Self, can never miss.
You'll never need to atone.
If you've the guts, to go it alone.
And those chains that bind.
That blind you.
Will no longer grind.
Nor find you.