He, wearingly, unlocks a door to a room,
Where his uncertainties, disquietudes, lures, and his understanding encounter.
Their skirmishes made his head flounder.
He turns to a book,
Which stares him in return.
He drowns in the world of philosophies,
That enlighten him of his emptiness.
He takes a nap.
Days and nights won’t bother him,
He has plenty of them.
Although he hasn’t enough worries,
But his failures concern him.
And questions his inquiring.
His cycle of life keeps running,
On the same road,
With the same rules.
He seems caught in the web of truth and the Truth.
Though he’s sure he will cross the mirages,
He wonders if he really has that control.
He thinks of his own self,
That wanders in the wonders of the world.
To retreat the unbidden soul, would the Creator take it from him?
Who would nourish it without His radiance! He calls out.
Do you wonder who he is?
He’s in you, me, and the world out there.
Photos from the internet.