Ex Nihilo

Not slabs of wood that make the door.
But the opening we pass through for.

A portal, a pathway, a means of movement.
For destruction and self-improvement. . .

Found myself a bit of space.
Some quiet time, a peaceful place.

From this place, a war was waged.
Predicaments had me engaged.

Things were missing, not defined.
Could these things be filled by mind?

But whose and when? That’s the question.
From within or by suggestion?

On other souls I did depend.
Alone, I couldn’t comprehend.

How it worked, why it was?
I followed along, just because.

A sympathy, a common thread,
An invite to my morphing head.

Seized from me without my knowing.
Sometime during that foregoing.

The heart and mind was not of mine,
But set upon me by design.

To an army I was dispatched.
With many others now attached.

Hostage of a good intent.
What then did I represent?

A view, an agenda, a lust for power?
My sense of self had been devoured.

Swallowed by my raging tribe.
Governed by my brother’s vibe.

My own was buried long before,
And still wanting something more.

Ever feeling incomplete.
Flowing river of deceit.

A universe unto myself.
Surrendered, placed upon a shelf.

In furtherance of a cause,
Until this respite, ‘til this pause.

It was a cycle I had to break,
To find what’s real, and what’s fake.

Found a center, found a core.
I was here long before.

Turned away in doubt and haste.
But it could never be replaced.

This path is hard, painful and gritty.
But there’s no loathing or self-pity.

Standing true, standing tall,
Answering my maker’s call.

From here the best of me does shine.
With this piece of the Divine.

A quiet and eternal presence,
A spark, a flame a living essence.

Here creating worlds from naught.
Products of my own free thought.

An individual, a one, my own.
Yet intertwined and not alone.

From old and dying, new things begin.
Something from nothing, and more therein.