I bite the hand that feeds me, so that maybe it’ll let me starve,

From the hate and abuse that scar the walls of my heart,

My spirit is shattered into a thousand pieces ripped apart,

Like the land after Mother Nature’s beautifully demonstrated disastrous work of divine art,

The hand that feeds plants the ego’s seeds,

That burrow and fester as it comes to life, it breathes,

Second by second is tells us to what to believe,

As sanity takes over and manipulates all that we achieve,

As we remember ourselves we can achieve all that we desire,

All that we need is an open heart to acquire,

As the flames in our souls burn brighter and brighter,

In all we do we can only hopes to inspire and aspire,

To deliver ourselves from the thoughts locking us in fright,

When we face it head on with acceptance we see we’re always alright,

Even when life is suffocating and our chest, shoulders, soul and heart being pulled and tied ever so tight,

The only way through is to embrace to eternal fight,

Like a bird on the wing, soaring and free,

Carried naturally on the soft blowing breeze,

That kisses our skin through the wind carried by the trees,

Or the egoic hold that twists and shakes our mold,

Turning into reflections of the memories of old,

Though history repeat itself in thoughts and reactions we behold,

Written on the pages of our stories yet untold,

To rewrite our story we must accept our fate,

Born of the infinite love, compassion, peace and kindness as our true state,

Let it envelop the soul and open up and gates,

To unlock our lives to a fresh clean slate,

The path is ours too reflect our inner sage,

To the beauty of life in every stage,

The cool waters compliment the heart of the sand,

The wonders all around if we’re patient enough to withstand,

All that accompanies this beautiful land,

Till then strived to be good and continue to walk hand in hand,

I put the pen in my hand, my blood in every line,

To convey the truths that lie within this rhyme,

Hopefully it reaches many before the passage of time,

We keep moving forward incapable of being left in the records of the divine,

To outlast the tears that we cry,

To force ahead and create a new generation,

To teach, love, compassion, peace, forgiveness and trust, the ways we pull us up to the top, just need to see that we are are we, me and you,

Either/or we are free to choose what we want to choose,

We’ve always been stuck in rock bottom

To speak but mechanically , in a word that’s been forgotten,

Still we stand on the promise of tomorrow,

Ensured we can achieve serenity but we’re drowning in sorrow,

To only rise from the waters and of the eighth moon of Saturn commonly unknown,

Our spiritual journeys revolve around us,

Like the orbit of Saturns moon Calypso,

Through the warmth of summer the coldness of the snow and ice flow,

Through the winds of time and the dandelions tiny parachutes of hope,

Were pulled to and fro in the light of our shadows,

We rise through it all in the in depths or our being,

In true understanding lies the path to true healing,

As we rise through our imperfections and break through the ceiling,

Rising higher and higher we never stop seeking,

With the illusion of opposite it’s quite unrevealing,

Still with the grace of deer and and the wisdom of life,

We talked hold of difficulty and strife to ride up and rectify,

The mind, soul and love that needs to be clarified,

That we are the masters of our life and that will continue to multiply or

To bite the hand that feeds the nightmares of our dreams,

Till we’re back in the light of the vespertine moonbeams,

Every second is a moment to seize

To paint our masterpiece to inspire for all to see!!

—TerrySalmon—