On these rocky floors rest blooded knees.
to discover an antidote that heals.
Instead of mask the wounds behind tap clawing to breathe.
I'm not the man I thought I'd be.
I'm running after perfection in dark streets
Thinking foreign lands have what I seek
But I hear whispers "there's no such thing
So bare it, your sanity belongs to the wind"
The thoughts I think suffocate me
when the deeper parts of me are revealed.
Most of the time I'm incomplete
Like half of a pendant missing its other piece
Or the African origin in some coffee beans.
I've been engulfed in scribes of wisdom
And I know the more you know, there is sorrow.
It is like the enjoyment of doing a thing
But a sadness still lingers subtly because all good things must come to an end.
Embracing walls due to my wounded feet
The lessons I learned are on my teeth
They haven't sunk deep so now they leave.
My legs search for a home
They take me to a venue covered in flowers
I close my eyes embracing the breeze
I hear whispers again "there's no sanctuary for false disciples, you can't be lukewarm and claim you are a seeker..... because what you want to find lies far beyond the veil... & what you are now you cannot discern it."
So on these rocky floors rest blooded knees.
to discover an antidote that heals.
Instead of mask the wounds behind tap clawing to breathe.
Ah, yes I've purchased the wrong medicine
... hallucinogens... I see
now I'm lost in a venue of leaves.