To Survive
Deliberately for ten full years
he buried, spark of greater self.
So vessel would become void
an insignificant whipping stool.
That he could be as rarefied one,
ridiculed within coarse crowd.
Not apart in isolation suffering aloneness
seeing with insight to read unguarded hearts.
Now past learning, true self, cannot be denied
nature that feels, to much, to deep, deep down.
To walk in worlds you cannot walk in
think thoughts you have not thought in.
Dream dreams
you have not seen.
See past presents
all that’s ever been.
Winged fugitive creeping
silently striving to remain.
Blood of virtue flows
in those elusive veins.
Hunted like a leper,
by faceless cripples.
Who torture those
still psychic sane.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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