Esoteric Online

If what we are is what we will be

Divinity has come to an end

The hope of the soul is shriveled and decayed

Pretending to be ripe for the picking

It escapes through the worm eaten flesh

A murmur lost in time


Our being young and growing old

Is repeated throughout eternity

Never to deviate from its worn path

Fruits of labor long picked from the roadside trees

Empty are the bellies of those who walk behind

Like a legion of corpses they shamble on

Focused on the path never shifting like thousand others before


When death comes no one cares

The body ground to dust below bloodied feet

Not even the crows can come and feast

The body already leeched from life

Goes back to dust whence it came

No one notices everyone keeps going on


A fire shines in the distance off the beaten path

Through a small trail entangled with roots and branches

Few have seen it out of the corner of their eyes

Curious about something different from the mundane

They gingerly step forth with eyes of many upon them

Some watch in fear as they meld into the brush

Others watch wondering where that path ends

The rest seethe with anger at something unknown


The pathfinders drudge and toil no more than the reset

Paths unbroken by other feet wind up and down

At points roots snare and branches claw

Tripping, breaking, and bleeding these people go on

Their deepest despair is broken by resolve

Shadows blinding the only light is the fire in the distance

And it never dies


At the end sits not a fire but a city that shines

Clearing the woods the people gape in awe at the perfection

Giant pearls make up the gates the roads are made of gold

Water pure and so clear one can see a thousand miles deep to the very floor

Singing is heard the stars twinkling in their own song

They know their worth and cannot approach


A lone man draws near from the gates 

He seems to shimmer making the very air itself alive

From afar his face, hands and feet seem like bronze

Hair and beard whiter than snow

His eyes like bright flames warding against the darkness

Stepping across the grass more graceful than a doe

No mark is left as if he never was there


The wind picks up and everyone shields their eyes

When they uncover them the angelic being they saw was gone

Only to be replaced by a man dressed as a hermit

"Welcome!" he says in a voice that one cannot help but listen to

He spreads his arms and for a moment they see a man with a single eye

Two Ravens on his shoulders carrying a spear covered in Runes.


The vision passes and once again the man stands there like nothing ever happened

He smiles an infectious grin and says excitedly

"Welcome. Welcome home."


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Comment by Backavar on May 18, 2017 at 12:30pm

Thank you  :)  

I have more to share and create.  I hope to find some amazing things here by other seekers. Greatly excited to explore. 

Comment by JD on May 18, 2017 at 12:23pm

Thanks for sharing your Welcome home. :)

Comment by anki on May 18, 2017 at 11:53am

hi there fellow poet, well worded art. thanks for sharing. 

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