How conflicting life is, to which we desire:
Fame, fortune, faith, fellowship and all freedoms;
To wonder with open eyes, all my heart sucomes,
Being fully present in the beauty and mire.

One man's shoes: ***** boots laden with pebbles
Brothel-bound, consumed by ****** delights that bleed,
Poison in others’ souls, from which he fleed,
To find comfort elsewhere, the ego revels.

Another sacrifices her desires but still hordes
Possessions and worldly opinions consume,
Drunk affirmations that do not comfort or bloom
Known to him only horrors in which his mistress lords.

Coin and notes, to the world, connotes successes,
But inwardly hollow; the soul finds rest none,
White walls, stone statues, pillars aplenty plom
Yet free is not them from psychological stresses.

It is theirs to endure while here...