The Prose to the Pro and Interminable Man

How very lovely

is the world with patterns rife...

which seek to dazzle and amaze even make us aware of their intended purpose...

and we walk by without moments thought to their design..

least our actions we abhor for they do not fit to measure of such perfection...

Then pick we then the world apart telling nature it has no reason...

seeing darkness in its innocent acts to justify our darkness within...

Not respecting and even deflecting the reasoning levels that might be easily seen...

to differentiate the levels of our acts and leave nature's patterns clean and wholesome as before...

Leaving us to view ourselves once again as unclean?

Heaven forbid...

but does heaven forbid if we admit to its existence?

Will we give natures patterns that much credit and take the debits to our nature serious enough to change ours to fit theirs...

knowing of course that our patterns adjure some of our behaviour and therefore must change...

some of our pleasure to be set aside least we stand in glaring contrast...

when we leave our door and look outside...

putting on shades to hide our shame and pretend like children that the world cannot see..

the real you or me until the end...

where naked and dead we cannot hide from ourselves as even the undertaker will attest...

And be found wanting.


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Comments 2 comments

b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 6 years ago

I like this piece,,,it's dark, and it digs deep into the soul, makes one think. Nice Poetry, it really flows right up to the end.


Jaggedfrost profile image

Jaggedfrost 6 years ago Author

I am glad it touched you. Maybe one of these days you will share some of those things you thought as you considered it.

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