After surviving the many Tomorrows
I dreaded meeting,
How blessed am I now
To be eager for Sunrise
To greet me sooner.

Afraid of the Unknown, afraid of Discovery
Fear is Our one unconditional tendency -
One that will never
Allow Us to feel free.

Put me in a cobra,
Put me in a tree,
Whether as a lion,
Or as a bumblebee -
Will I still blame my vessel
For limiting me?

The battle ultimately,
Is Fear against Liberty,
And given that Existence
Is largely mentality,
My only real limitation
Is Me-
Unconditionally.

*"Freedom is a state of mind."

Granted with solitude
Becoming too familiar,
I sank into crinkled sheets and sobbed
While Loneliness hovered,
Lingered,
Embodied and so absolute
That its shadow projected on the gaps
Between aging artwork on my wall,

Having the impression of a spider I once knew,
Who was weaving along those very gaps
Its own artwork,
Which too would have aged,
Had I not taken its life with a dusty tissue box -
A memory like a cloudburst over my heart,
Flooding its hollow chambers with regret:

If only I had kept that spider around,
Perhaps by now it would be calling this house its web,
It would have multiplied
Blessing me with generations of natural listeners -
For I would speak my mind
And they would skillfully translate
Each vibration from my mouth -
I would see my thoughts reflected in their webs.

Why did I insist on killing?
Defensively I announce, "I am fearful
Of its poison!"
But that is no justification
For I have witnessed such poisonous Love
...
And the way it would have
Hurried along my flesh
Could have very well been the same.
Whether poisonous or affectionate,
A spider's company
Is better than none.

Shamefully, I stare at a wall
That bares no such creature,
But the shadow, rather, of Misery's lover
Who will never feel this exhausting solitude
For Loneliness is never lone
So long as I am Misery.

Forever I wondered,
Now so clearly it seems,
For I am a Vessel -
All who go, go through Me.

I am the checkpoint
At which some decide;
I am the stop sign
At which others realise
How far they have gone,
That they must keep going,
That all One can know
Is always worth knowing.

I am the Traverse,
The others climb aboard,
As more move through me,
The more am I worn.

Now I am the subway -
Diseased by character,
Ridden with burdens,
Yet having to nurture.

But with all the damage,
How can I fulfill
My obligations
As a faithful Vessel?

My strength is the fuel
I use to keep going,
But no one fills a tank
Empty without knowing.

I won't ever blame you -
Simply staying on track.
But a train broken down
Goes neither forward, nor back.

So stuck here we'll be,
'Til the "Check Engine" light
Reminds you of Me
And you put up a fight
To repair what's been lost
Throughout years of hard work,
Jumpstart this vessel,
And revive your Traverse.

My mind, a greatly powerful creation,
began to grow absent,
just as man, a nearly equally powerful creation,
rests his bones in old age:
a time he once feared, but now accepts.
Then just before I settled
in my own retirement,
exposed unto me was a colour,
one much sweeter than "black";
I saw rose petals fall from some sort of Heaven-
an unknown realm right above me-
down and down,
into the depths of my perception,
a sensation bringing such
warmth
and
comfort
to me,
as light led me to my end
with this tender, "goodbye"
Proving to me
the beauty in passing