The ones you worship, in truth
Not in the words written by men.
They do not care for falsehoods of the physical
Meant to veil the true nature of your soul.
The mendacities of the mind.
These are as city streets, a
Beautiful bonsai, meant to be
Nurtured with fostered growth,
And cleansed of all *****, evil.
To trim away at dead branches
Rotted wood, that would otherwise
Hurt what has its roots
Through every fiber of your being.
The reverberations are felt
Throughout eternity; the
Things you feel, think, & do.
You know of enlightenment,
Great messiahs and prophets
Spoke of it until men killed them.
The words for you to free yourself,
They are there.
Further back than these books today
That only steal from what was written.