118 The Threefold Caste

Some see in hollow earth a beaut’eous light,
They bury all their worth beneath the sands,
And yet when time, a monster, shows its might,
Their broken rhyme is lost to fleeting glance.
Where such see worth, the most do find despair,
They search the earth, for balm to quell their pain,
Their lives as well are lost, with joyous air,
Which tells the deathly cost of happy feign.
The last of broken man do hold his hope,
The wise unwanted man is ere the sage,
He searches not for happiness to cope,
Nor revels, caught by riches of the age.
Instead the wise will woo that maiden truth,
When purpose cries, comes glory to the sleuth.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O'Neil)
Written December 19, 2006

117 The Ancient Wisdom

Why question ye, the path assigned to man?
The majesty, both simple and benign.
The ancient pattern set was not began,
To kill the love, beget a darker time.
So many years ago, the wise decreed,
The system dead and cold in modern time,
Yet now is clear, ‘twas not done out of greed,
And neither beer, as it did speak a rhyme.
The modesty enflamed forbidden love,
The majesty arose the passion true,
The family was pure, as is a dove,
And man and wife, unbroken, could renew.
The system now decayed was not a curse,
With love and glory flayed, ‘tis now much worse.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written December 18, 2006