The Onion

Emotion burns him deep Mind diseased ravaged with the illness Like plague it strikes his body Wearing him down Upset and angry he chooses positivity Focusing on good things, simplicity balances him A state of yin and yang is what he seeks He remembers what he once wrote down "Meek is the man who is content with his lot" And a brim of a smile comes over him Once again his mind is a clean slate Awaiting the next twisted day Maintenance and improvement fuel his thoughts An empty vessel he has had his fill As each day passes his soul grows and grows Wiping his brow he knows and knows That faith holds him true And strong and proud Dishevelled no longer for he is proud And humble and simple he moves along To the star in the heavens that provide him with light Forever and forever he will not give in to his fright But fight and fight as a soldier in battle He is not on a pedestal but grounded in earth He cannot be moved or shaken For he knows his own state And does not debate or hate But loves in abundance and believes in the virtues Of faith, hope and love He is new no longer sunken in misery and dew But alive and warm like the sun above He is a white dove, no longer innocent but not guilty as hell He is not perfect nor seeks to be Living his life via choice and destiny