Inspection leads some men
to brief resurrection,
But that course can also
lead to a defection.

There’s often some needing,
for a frenzy of feeding,
When we seek to feast,
on an ego that’s bleeding.

Is it real or some mirage,
lost in forest or garage?
So many casualties of truth,
how can we triage?

This is that place
too well we know,
if you disagree
that’s your ego.

And right or wrong
you must submit,
Or be tossed from the circle
a dishonorable ****.

How is it we can be so blind,
to not see we are of a kind.
Who run about with desperate shouts,
without a mindful mind.

In the dark I see that wraith
Perhaps a remnant of my faith,
Ephemeral and tinged with rust
Forgotten father of my trust.

I’m not speaking here of thee,
Oh what’s this paradox I see
You said that! No I did not!
Oh, what a travesty!

Walk a mile in my shoes,
see for yourself what you may lose,
Perhaps you’ll find the fit so right
that it awakes you in the night.

And there you’ll lie and toss and turn,
amidst the loss amidst the burn
Oh, sad child who would not learn
Please say a prayer for me.