Monday, June 1, 2015

The Fool

I made myself, a Fool, - for you
Perhaps I was a Tool, - for you
Something to hold, and feel so near
Nothing so cold as the voices, I hear.

They tell me to do this,
they tell me, “Do that”
It’s sometimes a Wonder
I know where I’m at.

Could this be fantasy,
Is this so Real?
How will I know
How to think, how to Feel?

An intuition comes along,
an insight may appear,
and all I know, is I should grasp -
and cling upon the Truths, I hear.

With such passions aroused, and (with hindsight), no Reason
We hide our suspicions, of others’, deep treason
Their shouts of denial, that echo, so sweetly
For judgements abound, and rebound, discretely.

With our minds now possessed, and a passion to know
We seek further guidance, - (for lights, to show)
We pray for protection from anything dark
We ask that the light shines, reflecting a “spark”

Which smiling Angel, which Star do we follow
For us to come Home, without Hate, without Sorrow
Returning from battles within, and without,
We smile at the Wisdom awarded, no doubt.

We ask for the courage to cross boundaries unknown,
and support of our helpers, who’s way was once shown
the noise of the battle approaches, my friend
is this the Beginning, or is this – The End.

©2014 Phillip Hennessy

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

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