The Cure For Our Disease

Wanting nothing gaining everything

Detach and declare to the deviant mind

Snatch the nightmare that threatens to bind

Shod your feet with the finest of soil

Worthwhile reward for your labor and toil

Running circles stamping out fire

Will it matter when you’re on the pyre?

Detach and declare victory to the overworked mind

Then come to me to rest…seek and you will find

Floating above the masses in awakening

Mind, body and soul quaking

It wasn’t hard to leave it behind

I left a breadcrumb trail for those inclined

Shaken…not stirred

As my dream engine whirred

We’ll meet in the ether

The pathway there is gold beneath her

Higher, higher and higher still

The only way I reach it just now is with a quill

The feather of which lufts me with ease

This may be the cure for our disease

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