Lotus Poem by Singer Joy

At peace with itself
Is the Lotus.

Inside the both of us,
Lies the secret to end despair,
Seeming regret, beyond repair,
At peace with itself
Is the Lotus.

It is the center of focus;
Our pinnacle of achievement,
And of cynical bereavement,
At peace with itself
Is the Lotus.

Single and many as the locust,
There lies one unperturbed by catastrophe,
Not disturbed by blasphemy,
At peace with itself,
Is the Lotus.

And giving no notice,
Such a bloom may close and hide,
Leaving gloom and woes betide,
The death of heart
Can be the Lotus.