When you grasp your soul in your own hands
No master will be able to halt you
No betrayer will be able to kill you
No heretic will be able to steal you away from we
Beasts will try to break you
Murderers will try to burn you
Poisoners will try to mar your face
But we will be your protectors:
The Father, The Son, The Id and The Ego
From the Author
I walk a fine line here in poetryofantstown; The line between trusting the truth in my heart and the knowledge that the heart is the seat of stupidity.
I keep getting older... and as I get older, I keep realizing that I was right about the thing all along-
Excess breeds greed, desperation breeds desperation, and both breed ignorance. Wondering what ignorance breeds? Look out your window.
I keep realizing that I've been wrong- Wrong about thinking I was always wrong. I was wrong to exchange the wisdom imparted to me for the backwards reasonings of the land.
This poem is about a soul that finally deciced to trust what it knows. It's also about the Spirit in the sky that knows everything- The one who plants whatever wisdom it can into souls as they are born, live, and grow.
This poem is NOT about a soul that always knows what the Spirit in the sky is thinking. But it IS a celebration that the soul of man is meant to be joined together with the Spirit in the sky.