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The body tires but not our mind,
in lucid dreams, to fears resigned.
Thought spirals grip us in their bind.
The peace we seek seems hard to find.
Why oh God, have we been born blind?
Though voice of conscience does remind,
our hardened heart's no longer kind,
with throb of love soul's misaligned.
Painful has become earth life grind;
we play not our role, as assigned,
wastefully having wined and dined.
Time’s now thoughts be to bin consigned,
thus with ego cravings declined,
we leave our feral past behind.
Fickle heart with bliss furrows splined,
we become the light God designed.
06-October-2022
SINGLE STANZA MONORHYME Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
Rhymezone, PS Grammar
Copyright © Unseeking Seeker | Year Posted 2022
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