Clutching tight to humanity,
A favorite hold of humans,
Intentional or not, perhaps,
Defining freedom, good, and bad,
Leading grains to forget their essence,
They deny being bound,
But observe closely, flowers bloom when watered,
And humans seek praise to stay happy.

The puppeteer and puppet are one,
You made a mistake thinking the strings wrapped around you,
No, they're deeply rooted within.

Redemption eludes feeble-minded entities,
Those unwilling to lift a finger,
Those who consume poison disguised as wisdom.

True redemption lies within oneself,
Unfettered by words, faces, or opinions,
Bold enough to speak the truth and think independently,
Walking a narrow, empty but right path.

Only these beings shall find redemption.


© Myra