All the worst of my problems alone I create
Through the master controller of identity
On the personal level. I’m doomed to attack.
For the rest of my life here I’ll just watch my back.
Evil doesn’t become me, but insanity
Seems to be what consumes me and authors my fate.
The abstracted part of me – the self not made whole –
Is only form identity. It’s not the same
As the timeless consciousness that I am truly.
Everyone is that essence with none else to be.
With this form I am subject to sorrow and shame
That I feel often times to the depths of my soul.
Oneself can’t be perfected. It’s like whack-a-mole.
Once things are put to order, something falls apart.
Never ending the struggle it is to portray
A complete living model. And I must obey
The aspect of disruption. It strengthens my heart
Just to know of the sick truth I cannot control.
Evolution of consciousness cannot take place
In a world picture perfect with no suffering.
One would dance on the surface of life and not grow.
Compassion and deep insights one can’t come to know.
Disruption in my life is a wonderful thing
If I can learn to trust it as God’s loving grace.