The Gate of Isis

The Cage

In the moonlight I sit alone crying
By the shore of this still lake wondering
Why I tear, why in essence has life been staged
I feel that if my soul is a pearl it has been caged

This cage lets me breath but takes away the joy of living
It pulls a mist of thoughts over my soul and seeing
Only them I believe they are mine, this cage defines
Who I think I am, and thus confines
Me to its chains they tear at my wrists
And as I bleed I curse fates cruel twists
Knowing little that the pain I refuse to see
Comes from my chained soul deep within me

But I lack the honesty and courage
To see that I suffer from this haemorrhage
I have made an enemy of reality
I dread his name more than death but sadly
Despite the alcohol his call cannot be ignored
If I could chose between the sword and the cord
I’d chose to go without having to face myself
If I can refuse to see my tears, my self
Still feels the pain, I can run but not hide
I know the day will come when I see I’ve died

I feel truth turning my blood into acid
If my life was a lake which was placid
A stone has savagely broken its smooth skin
And from the bottom of this lake every sin
Has arisen like mud that floats in a disturbed
Pool, to face my conscience, had I wisely heard
The still voice that spoke but speaks no more
I would have lived for my spirit but like a whore
I gave my soul as prey to my six enemies
Lust, anger, greed, attachment, jealousy
And vanity… why? To please society

The words, smiles and laughs were all empty
With the fun I had I sought to anaesthetise
The small voice who tried to show me the cries
I heard were my own and now I see clearly
The absurdity of the fallacy
That trapped me: sadly virtuality
Can never really replace reality
Even if it imprisons my mentality

(Life’s nectar can’t be tasted through the mind
There is a passage, which you can find
That will lead you out of the cage and into
Dimensions where u may taste all that which is true
I know this because I found it and cry no more
And when my tears leave their perch I implore
The lord not, for the courage to take my life,
But to thank Her for taking away the strife
Mock me, but one day u will see the light in my heart
And the divine touch that sculpted it, smart
You thought you were then, but now it is too late
The dice have been cast and you have chosen your fate)

These lines humbly carry my last warning
Through the mist can you hear me calling
Or are you, child, already lying
In the mud, in a pool of your own blood?

Even so you can resurrect
God wishes you well, never forget

The Aspiring Scribe