There are times when I'm addled
with doubt and inner battles.
I'm afraid I'm too frayed
and will begin to unravel.
Then my mind's stream does babble
as floating thoughts paddle
mindwaves ride waves
as I mentally travel.
To the Tower of Babel.
A time before time
in a land before difference
each tongue knows the rhyme;
instilled intuition.
They work with unity,
before well-oiled machines
and lost-in-translation's
like ¿Que quieres decir?
(What do you mean?)
I watch and admire
their towering hubris,
all while knowing the spire
and their work will be fruitless.
To have the audacity
to try to build to the heavens
God, the Great King,
wholly punished the peasants.
Now I stare,
with a sense of collusion
as the people fight and swear
while their tongues spew confusion.
Division's beginning
even now it still grows
in the grass of the minds
where dissension is sown.
Reeled back to my life
and the sadness and strife
with a moral on morale
and blasphemy's knife.
But I began to question
the extent of the lesson
would a lack of self-worth
be a problem to reckon?
We were made in his image.
He envisioned our visage
and breathed us his breath--
we, the heir of his privelege.
You are divine! Even when you're depressed
Just empty your mind and breathe out a breath.
Exhale exaltation,
inhale jubilation,
Balance humility with confidence
and tower your accomplishments.
YOU ARE READING
Herban Poetry
PoetryA small but ever-growing collection of original poetry from the mind of a 19 year old pothead. This is home to a large range of thoughts, feelings, and ideas that cloud my head in poetry form.
