The Onion

The Onion

I was polishing my ego,
With an old and dusty cloth,
But I must have rubbed too hard,
As pieces started flaking off.

Despite my fears of what could be,
Lying underneath,
I resumed my work,
In order to bring it into my reach.

Alas the man I thought I was,
Proved but a thin veneer,
As the humble, brave and honest me,
Faded and disappeared

Standing in his place,
Staring laughingly at me,
A hedonist, exuding,
Self-superiority.

A grin designed by confidence,
A wolf dressed as a lamb,
Could this vain and sneering egotist, 
Be truly who I am?

But, a crack appearing on the mien,
Of this new & brazen player,
Exposed him for just what he was,
Another outer layer.

With hope renewed, and head aspin,
I returned then to my labour,
And chipped away in hope of finding,
Something more in favour.

A man stood right before me,
But couldn’t meet my eyes,
With his pockets full of hands,
And a mouth full of his lies.

A mind consumed with how to get,
Ahead in every deal,
Prepared to do what must be done,
To barter, cheat or steal.

Again I set to rubbing,
Hoping against hope,
That I wouldn’t be, this man I saw, 
This craven misanthrope.

To my relief, or so I thought,
The next face soon showed through,
But as it became clearer,
My apprehension grew,

His eyes flicked over me one time,
Then finding the wrong sex,
Turned to finding fairer prey,
Remaining circumspect.

This voyeuristic, lust-filled man,
Was not who I would be,
So without delay I set the next,
Incarnation free.

To my dismay, revealed by my,
Polishing persistence,
A man who wished for nothing more,
Than total non-existence.

The self-hating, weak-willed man,
Revealed by my probe,
Was nothing but a whining,
Introverted autophobe.

I threw myself at what remained,
Smashing away more,
In an effort to gain access to,
My elemental core.

A suffocating darkness,
A silence absolute,
Until there at perception’s edge,
An evil undilute.

Capering and gibbering,
Laughing maniacally,
The demon that had kept his home,
Deep inside of me.

Uncontrolled & flailing,
Against sensory privation,
My hands tore at the walls,
Revealing possible salvation.

An ancient sat before me,
With an all-consuming grace,
Belied by all the pain I saw,
Written in his face.

Children starving, sick and dying,
Bombed out from the skies,
The hurt of an entire world,
Reflected in his eyes.

With tear-streaked cheeks he looked at me,
And said “sit down my son,
Rest here for a while,
For your journey’s all but done.”

I sat down with this empath,
And began to share his pain,
‘Til curiosity prevailed,
And I set to work again.

The final layer proved to be,
A stratum unresisting,
And before my touch, it ceded as if,
Something was assisting.

Bathed within a light divine,
Enveloped in a tone,
A universal pulse emerged.
Revealing the unknown.

Laved of my misgivings,
A new journey begun,
I entered this new plane,
And with the universe was one.