My conscience is complex,
Composed of the contents,
Laid from past events and their context,
B E W I L D E R M E N T,
The essence of the message,
Follow me on a path through warped passage,
.
.
.
As time passes,
The sun sets and rises,
Many have altered stance and disguises.

Perceptions once real,
Become questions at best,
Life’s quest evolves into next,
With essence of past still heavy in head,
I question your mask and the realness you tread,
Woven like thread,
Each story entwined,
With events throughout time that augment the mind.
Impact of sorrow,
Rage of deceit,
Stages today and tomorrow,
And the paths where they meet.
Used as a tool or a lesson unknown,
Be thrown from the throne,
Find clairvoyance in poem,
Or make ignorance home,
And roam all alone,
Some denying levels from which they have come,
but the truth shall be known,
(or slightly insinuated)
Time, as it has innovated,
Creates shadows of self,
Diminishing innocence of childhood wealth,
Left with the choices of ignorance bliss,
Living the past,
Or searching for it.

Or stubbornness stance,
With views unpersuaded,
While few take the chance to lift veils from the shaded.