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Song Of The Hustler

A rambling prowling preacher
in Paimons ego eye
Held up in greed's attention;
In a halo of the time.

Smokes his way to freedom:
in strains so learned to bear
with the prophecy of philosophy,
Without a practice in the prayer.

Out hungry like a hunter;
a hustler in disguise.
In secret shadowed conversations
that echoes repeated time.

Tormented to each trouble
in this serpent circled life.
For eternity is ever-outlasting thee
behind thy diamond pride.

Ah, just come a little closer
& see what he can do
Cos your mind against his mirror
is a reflection fallen through

Soon we'll split & vanish
And hold this earth in crumbs
To puzzle out the purpose,
from all we've said & done.

So don't claim to wish to keep him
Cause your certainty is just a scar
And his personas of identity are just
playing out the past

Well, what happened to you stranger?
Did you resist the new?
Still your mind against his mirror
Is a reflection fallen through.
Wednesday, March 10, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: ego
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4/21/2021 12:18:02 PM # 1.0.0.560