Travels

Our soul and our bodies are always traveling

Two feet stirring up the gravel

As your mind plots the next stop

As the Judge in you Bangs his Gavel.

Disciplining your self too harshly

Yet not excepting redirections

At times you are a fire

A flame that emits light and within such

Reflections.

The pool to cool the anger boils up

Better cool down before the steam causes your bottled ego to explode.

A rocket to the stars

Out of Control

Your wreckage is a battered soul that starts to implode.