51

I dropped the Conscience while I was fleeing

The Celestial Temple of Cogitation.

Mind has done enough sightseeing

Of the silent Anarchy’s gestation…

Its coordinates has many doorways

And yet folks stay clear out of the Mud

But oh, the precious Humanity has always

Had its tree roots soaked in blood.

 

 

 

Author's Note

Reviews

[Jes' Pi]

Such a very beautiful poem.
"Soaked in blood"...may I use this too? I like it so much!
Very good.

[Ana B.]

Of course you can use it, you have my blessing hehe thanks my dear :)

[KWP]

Humans and conflict ... an ugly marriage indeed and yet here we are ... hanging out at level one because as a mass we cannot seem to shift our consciousness up to level two ... age old issue you have addressed here X

[Ana B.]

indeed, seems like Earth is a particular purgatory for those being that operate on a higher level :) thank you for stopping by dear friend.

[Shy Joe]

The beauty we hold in our hands came at a great price. A hidden tax. Upon the history of broken backs. We skip stones on the lake of blood. A lovely stain.

Enjoyed your poem. Thanks for sharing.

[Ana B.]

Thank you for this Joe :)