Soul Cave
Exit Stage Left…for now
Hibernation. Procrastination. Yet, determination.
A man living on the earth with no nation.
Life spins as the world moves in rotation.
He crawls, primordial ooze seeking salvation.
Caught by life and its rotting stagnation.
The man thought Plato’s cave a birth canal.
Philosopher’s stones all seem to him banal.
What will save this man in the here and now?
Sorrow, those who think the world run by a cabal.
It’s just that struggle to exist takes such a toll.
The man will crawl soon back into his cave.
Whilst living now in the only land of the brave.
Whose lives he only wishes he could all save.
Even now as he sits, another soldier in a grave.
While the young, unperplexed dance at a rave.
Time for hibernation. To contemplate and pray.
He simply can’t listen to what most have to say.
The cross and the path must be his chosen way.
Rise up, sink down, get through another war day.
At night in slumber with his wife he will lay.
Seek not the trinkets and ideas of fallen men.
You shall then be deceived again and again.
If you look to the heavens, there, your true friend.
The enemy your soul tries to break and to bend.
Ha, may we all win, so all this will come to its end.
Back into the soul cave will he crawl.
Taking a needed rest from it all.
Emerge or bang his head on a wall.
There is no one to talk to or to call.
Exterior life just seems an empty stall.
For now, the cave will be his home to ponder and roam.
Internal mental Paleolithic escape from life’s dome.
Cutting off ties a bit, his introverted deep genome.
Escaping the social media need to be seen syndrome.
To ponder whether he should again write another tome.
