Pieces of the master echo through the halls of time
his fingers reaching out like twisted vines
clawing at our selfish center
the words that continue to linger
urging us to walk the straight and narrow
words that don’t worry the sparrow
maybe because they've learned to fly
all I ever learned was how to die
death haunts my deepest parts
but it’s darkness hasn't reached my heart
a light that's always glowed
it beats out his message in morse code
maybe a wiser man would heed the call
as others look on and shout, the fool!
"how can you adhere to ancient wisdom?"
they’ve blocked their ears they do not listen
yet upon his fruit they still feast
ignorant of the original masterpiece.