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Pilgrimage

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The raging sea...
All the force of fluidity
to what all the calm wet roads lead...
Rome unconquerable to swords of greed...
To it  inclines a pilgrim of faithless disbelief
who seeks to sail with it in his content grief.

From east to west
from north to south - bound...
Rain of sunlight drops peaceful unrest
on wall of pictures on barren ground, full of sound
standing in the chest, to scrape away that painted place to stay...
To a jar of memory, a compass - prevention to go astray.

Of the coasts!
Homeland in that old, decadent whore,
too young to be wise, too old to adore.
Left outside of empty inside - the essence of soul...
Eternal love in universe aimlessly floats,
no harbours, no stars for it to glow.

Contemplation is meant
to make see, to study, learn and discern,
to take the pathless course and simply burn,
take samples of wholeness, and dissect the recrement...
With wisdom, experience - stupidity in progression,
freedom - the slave of obsession...

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