For all my proclamations  of belief, 
Which in intent and conviction are true,

Endless, fruitless, journeys
That we oft embark upon,

In the precincts of the mind,
In the fortress I call mine,

O Demise, thou art a friend true
When I feel lost and dark blue

The capriciousness of destiny
at play I see in every day

Is my Time really mine
Or, is there a paradox there,

Light up the wick of Conscience,
And the waiting lamp within,

Does too much joy a sadness bring
Must there be little bits of everything,

Rivers flow but they tell us no more
Where they come from , where they go,

Since we don’t know why we are here
Let’s do what the the Heaven we like,

Impatience they say, now holds sway
Impatience will bring forth gains,

You see, I C B M’s, as the much-touted
 

When life’s no more than each breath we take,
Than the days and nights that we call the past,

Materialism’s at its Zenith Now
But, Money can’t buy God nor ever will,

It’s not about Perfection
But, all about Connection,