Wednesday, December 30, 2015

"Strength of habit"

Conditioned from the time of birth
Are cued to things of little worth
The habits that we all entail
The lost beyond a false dark trail
The darkness of our legacy
Brings such a plague that we could be
Ensnared upon the endless tread
To live a life that's truly dead
To break the bonds of habits' dread
At last, to deem the soul as fed
Unencumbered by the waste
At last, the physical to taste
Break open to a newborn state
To lives and loves that truly rate
This precious moment set unto
The ring of bells that sing the due
Human to the nth degree
And all it takes is that we see
Ladies first


© 2015 whickwithy