A journey from the point of entry back to the exit door
A wheel within a wheel, a circle round,
A simple puzzle turned into something complex for sure
The logical mind, the snapping hound
In the waste land we live our mortal life
Trapped by the glamours and enchantments which lie all around
Taught by misguidance we exist in strife
There is no hope, it cannot be found
Faced by impossible fears,
Separate, alone, and imprisoned in mortal capture
Three score and ten mortal years
So few realising the reason behind the rapture
Remember the early years, a constant fearless adventure
The answer lies there, the entry into this experience
We leave by the same door,
That which we seek remains within us all through this experience
We fail to look, we are taught to 'grow up' and 'mature'
But we forget, we submit to the arrival of our fears
We are distracted and misled for sure
The answer lies in those early years
MATTHEW JAMES