His anger, borne from deep within,
panders to his intractable whims.
Full of doubt and doubtfully fulfilled,
He builds inside him a world unreal.
Thoughts. Just thoughts, he knows them to be,
But our thoughts construct our reality.
Indeed, he sees not what is, but what isn’t,
Not from blindness, but a corrupted vision.
Thus manifest his fears, his pain,
Plain for him to see, though not sane.
The actions of others, thoughts, motivations,
He cannot discern from his own mind’s creations.
And so he fails. And so he falls.
Deeper, and darker, into the abyss.
But the halls of his mind have been twisted,
The world he created, evaporated.
And, in that moment, clarity.
His thoughts are his own, and others’ theirs’.
A parity he feared, he now accepts.
“Do unto others…”; the greatest precept.