from within



Her, not for this life suitable,

With green eyes like two sauces,

Open smile said to be beautiful

And a touch of inner neurosis.


She dreams visional movies and colours

dissolved through grotesque reality,

Demanding logical and callous,

Offerings of this world banality.


There lives in her the knowing

By the birthright of karmic origin,

The submergence of coming and going,

An acceptance of virtuous sin.


Like a frog in a cream jar of struggles,

She welcomes uncertainty’s reign.

Under the threat of sharp material daggers

Keeping herself clothed and sane.


Yet she persists; her morality

Meets with the hard recognition:

In thriving to equal mundane reality

She has to honour her inner vision.


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