The Glorious Perfection

The Fallen

Expression, perspective, perfection 

Thought and sought by the wise

But contradiction speaks with hatred and hearts of passion opinionated by the soul's raising 

So where is the praising? 

Are the smart not wise with heart and soul or lack in perfection? 

Is the answer not to find ourselves in others but eradication?  

One is right, one is fair

One is wrought, one is impaired

But balanced, in its own perspective 

By the wise, seeking expression, perspective, and the adding of, that glorious perfection.  

I seek the glorious perfection

I am not one of knowledge, I am not one of fame among peers 

But I wish to be wise. And one who is wise must be balanced. One who can see expression and perspective. Yet I am caught myself, in my own unbalance. I see struggles not my own I wish to relate, but do not have. For connection or meaning I know not of myself. Struggles. Of peers. Of family. Of the same. And I am caught in a balance of my own, and wish not to have. Should I embrace death the old Friend? Or shall I force a way back into the memories of the ones who forgot? The balance will not except either, this is known. So what will the answer be? The path to glorious perfection? Whatever balance allows... What a fickle friend...

  • Author: Yraletut (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 16th, 2018 14:02
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 29
  • Users favorite of this poem: Wayne hague
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Comments1

  • Wayne hague

    Good word play i like the lesson it gives



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