Santa in the Ghetto.

Some have summed up life to be a series of quid pro quo covenants,

karmic cycles ruled by choices and consequences.

It is quite evident that the law of causality exists, but in the vastness of the unfathomable plot of the cosmos lies unknown mysteries that create their own chain of events that unwillingly sets us unto new pathways. 

The sudden urge to fulfill our cravings,

the cravings that seek to place us in never ending bewilderment,

the endless bodily appetites pave the way to purgatory.

Perhaps a few doses of dopamine will briefly veil one's despair,

nevertheless, the time spent in the muddiness of our lives leaves us with wounds

some physical

but most are unseen non physical. 

They find no internal platelets to heal them up

but wounds are the marks through which light enters through. 

I wonder why Santa Claus never comes to the ghetto

Is it because We have no chimney?

Santa fraud INDEED!

I sometimes thought that I was never going to make sacrifices,

but when I swam against gravity to meet that egg, I knew that sacrifices had finally commenced. 

I sacrificed the comfort of certainty!

Sacrifices Sacrifices

After selling my fear to the merchants in the night

my weights got cut off and my Soul was lifted

Here comes the living from the dead!

Here comes the rain from the darkest clouds.