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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #2221740
Love for humanity, not ourselves - a prose poem.
The wayward latitude,
Sedately and horrifically focused;
A tolling of the choicest bells,
Registering a doomed
And disjointed revelry.
Painful apprehension peaks,
And the mighty instincts
Of humanity clamor
For ageless poise...

A certain role must grant
That serene, undeniable ecstasy.
An actionable worth
Whose focus and genius
Are second to none...

Just aim that sturdy beam
Into the unholiest realm,
That grueling, shadowy darkness.

Hoist that truth to the highest ladder,

And vow to enter a new void,

Investing in the principle devoutly
Known as miracles.

Be kind and strong,
For you are truly the gift.

And your own belief
In the days ahead...

Is to entrust and entertain
The vernacular
Of an amazing ownership
Of one absolute verity -

You must give love in order
To receive it.

And self love is never a gift

It eats away at society
And everything we worship. 

© Copyright 2020 Tim Chiu (mirtx at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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