I am a Traveler upon many roads
Roads scattered with leaves, petals undisclosed
Young saplings of delirium, creased among obscurity
So I lie at journeys center, uncovering their every fold
Yet here I remain blind to the articulate detail, unable to choose
Merely peeling at layers of intrinsic value, embalming my righteous refute
Peering into futures horridly washed in Truth
I am a Traveler
In pursuit of the Children amid this night's drought
A vessel of observation crumbling to the ground
In Frustration! For it is all I do
I wander among tulips, forever wrought of dew
At least it seems to be this way, so I attempt another method
Halt my scurrying pattern of circular adventure
And become a Traveler, in every sense of the manner
A scholar of Inquiry, burdened with Remembrance
Of all the possibilities deep in every crevice
These fissures of Time shouldn't be mine
Yet here they rest in hands unable to act
The price of Inquiry at it finest
Showing all the things I'm too afraid to entice
I am a Traveler withholding eyes to see
For if you could see it too
You'd rather have been let be
But maybe this is my own refute
For maybe these Children are looking for guidance in Truth
Yet as long as I act slave to these visions of yore
The Children will suffocate, drowning in ale of greed
Forced upon them by Shepards of the Night
For this gift of Inquiry is but courted right
The list is full and all are selected to play
It is my duty as Traveler to enlist on my way
Or merely to tell those of the Infinite
That they too have to choose or run away
The XIII hour draws near
And once again
I am forced into the Loh of Tomorrow
YOU ARE READING
Loh of Yesterday
PoetryA series of poems governing the sovereign thought within. Perhaps it's a means of fulfillment Or just another thought of cloy To me it alls seems irreverent But perhaps you may find some joy What lies within this crystalline tower Will reveal all...
