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The only thing original that's ours
And sole justification of our being
Is what those who are awake feel
The start of life's triumph
Through the flesh to the spirit,
That alone stays, when die
All living things,
What prayer, piety, fame and wealth,
Once off, could never lure back,
Passes our understanding
As we sob, sniffle and smile,
In existence skin, for a while
Why evil and virtue as fate and freewill,
As twins, whelp out
From the womb of thoughts unsought,
Mistaken for deliberation. Save belief,
Thinking is far from knowing
The pathless reality of unknown to be,
In a world akin to concentration camp,
Whence some daily are taken to execution.
yoonoos peerbocus
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