Shadow Of A Dwindling Spirit

In droves of occlusion
Circumcellions tend to hide in pious skin
And would betray your soul to impel their own
If ever you should let them in

Like an inverted cross, you only see
In reflections of a pond
That immeasurable loss, the lonely feel
When you know you don't belong

The laughter is always boisterous
The festival, alive and loud
Transmitting echoes into the tailwind
With the utmost uninviting sound

Be uniquely of a hidden light
No one cares to see
Visible only on the inside
Where the pretentious shall never seek

And when they rise, you listen
But never will their word
Be a vestige to ever heed
In the shadow of a dwindling spirit
You can be all you ever need

The darkness is always brighter
When there's no one else around
And the night is yours, with the spirit of wisdom
As you follow the flight of the owl

In time you'll learn from the peak of hindsight
To rue the ignorance you observe
Discreetly to creep out of its sickened womb
To die first, in order to reinvent

Shatter the glass and cast out
The spell of the superficial
Before you sift through the shards
To assemble a mosaic collage
Unmasking the depth of an individual

Let their solipsistic predilections
Be a mandala made of sand
And with a contemplative breath
Open your eyes, unclenching
The grain within your hand

But when ever do we learn to seek
Beyond the shallow states of mind
Adept to transcend the ego
The zeitgeist, the ethos
And the narrow frames of time

When cognizance progressed
And my thought process had fully grown
I should have held on
To immortalise the immutable self
And yet ostensibly, the only way
Is to transmute while letting go

Still, my love is that of a winter fire
Of mouldering wood which burns on cold desires
Smouldering through the resiling wind
While my ghost remains trapped within the pyre

Once I felt alive and almost played the part
But not one would say too well
When I fell out of my mind and followed their heart
That was the day I joined the dead