Dissipating Zen

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Pendrop Poet

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I got a glitch in the matrix
Want to be known but fear fame
Want to take steps into the future
Crossing bridges bearing flame
But I'll be backstepping out of the forest
Thinking it'll all turn out the same
A coward of a hero
No glory to the name,
I want to take a journey out the homestead
Like Frodo from the shire
Make First steps out of the Jupiter
Walk into the shadows from the fire
But I crawl back under blankets like I'm a child again
Seeing snow drifts in the wardrobe
And I'm not looking in

I took a step from the Ordinary
Answered a call
But as I climb ever higher
It's just further to fall
The greats have walked this path
And found their way to stand tall
But as I step beyond the threshold
I can't best them all
And I know that what I've faced is only the trial
The truest test is still yet to come
I've only tasted a sip of what's in the vial
And I don't know if this is torture or fun

I can't play pacifist when it comes to my art
That's why I keep being raring to go
But failing to start
No matter if I'm in the zone
Or coming apart
I got to keep fighting on through if I want to depart

In the journey, I'm two faced truth
Trying to be the hero of my story
I'm the villain of my youth
Trying to play at ego
Wear my label with pride
I created the scenario
In which my younger self would run and hide
Cause it's uncomfortable out here in this dingy spotlight
And the weatherman said
It would be better to stay inside
But I'm caught in the tornado
And it's too late for fright
I'm far from Kansas
And I've got to be ready to fly

Can you be the rival of your own mind
Lost in the obstacles you put in your own way
Trapped in cages of thoughts destructive and unkind
And all you want is to crawl out and face the day
But the villain in your way wears your own face
And you left all the weapons of your youth inside
All the vigor and resolve left without a trace
In the cage made of the walls you raised in your mind

Wrote myself as damaged again
I'm Always playing the monk with dissipating Zen
Some disturbed Saint, who lost themselves to sin
But in truth it's Simmons
Who killed the Poet with the Penn
And I'm losing my yang to the yin
Philosophizing life while ranting to my kin
Mocking purpose in the echoes of prophesizing men
And yet I'm seeing myself lusting for the end

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