The Guide
the guide that lies in front of my eyes
The spirit that no one can see,
the spirit that knows no apathy
Only cold purpose
And it would never try to shirk it's duties to us pitiful humans but do we
as people, as poets, as breathing life forms
Do more harm than good, or Good than harm with our words whether slurred, spoken, written or whispered lovingly being the barn?
Do we live our lives to the fullest while chopping down another's forest
Or do we abhor this enough to encourage life among all organisms within this earths strange prism?