Predicaments Poem by Cyclopseven R

My silence is not golden yet it is priceless
in search of the grandeur self within the little self
a hunt for a world of my existence
which have lost the direction since ages of yore
due to follies invented by mind in dual polarity.
I sit alone in contemplation of deeper nature
traveling beneath my conscience that tells a multiple story
secrets of life long forgotten, surfaced rapidly reminding a past of human frailties
where man dare to tread blindfolded, the divine retreat in care and love
fear of sins no more man’s nightmare
instead friends of mind they have become.
I remember the day my dad told me not to deprive another man of his earnings
nor get cheated by others in the name of pious spirituality
the last words spoken before his final departure
carries indelible print in my mind
twenty years later my dad is still alive in the divine advises given.
the divinity saturated world grossly meets the ailing souls
whose wayward mind drags them into boondocks of ghoul
searching for highest peace they kneel before statues and trees
forgetting a search within is where the address of creator lies
and to unlock, the key appropriate one must seek to possess
alas! the weak mind always seem to loose the grip
and slips further down from the aisle
with tears rolling down the cheeks they cry for salvation.