Of Truth and Other Sad Things

I wrote this poem when I heavily pondering the validity of religion and spirituality. The topic is not one i think I can ever come to a conclusion about (I'll talk more about this later), and in some way I still have some of the sentiments I had while writing this, but I have learnt not to worry about it as much. Here it is and hopefully some of you can relate.

Pollen and dust

Soot and ash

Fog and vapor

My eyes are clouded and so are my lungs

With smoke thick and illusions deep

This world is unforgiving, laced with deceit and lies

With no silver at a clouds end to find

Yet they smile that beautiful smile

And yet they laugh that deep bellied laugh

A bizarre picture on the world’s foul gloom

That envelope’s the philosopher’s mind

Like a child ignorant and pure

Of human atrocities and demons at war

Solace they find in stories and song

Dipped in holy oil with divine allure

Told by men with tongues of silver and pockets of gold

My heart is heavy with the truth i see

Happiness a stranger, visiting only in short busts

But elated and lifted their spirits do seem

By fables close to their hearts and deep in their minds placed

Surely I too happiness can find

If in old mysticisms i revel and roll

But only the truth my eyes do seek

For restless is my mind when lies are abound

Now i understand ignorance's bliss

For heavy is the truth and pain it doth bring.