To ever think that one can't they surely won't

To dream of choice to count
To live as one in solemn accord
To live within its fullness one affords
In meditation one can easily praise to clap their hands

In deep humilty perhaps they will one day live to understand

Yet to ever say that one can't certainly won't
To breathe then let out the midnight air
Rejoice in timeless laughter that appease through pain
Still deep inside we are all the same;

Through its savage vile torn rhetoric decorum intact

Possibility thinkers come out from within to attack!
Out of much fear with timid resistance desolation sets in
Many still choose that pathway to least resistance
With no shelter to cry nor that of any aimed desolate caged fury to swell!

Many live out their shallow lives being too much of a damn hurry!

Their chief aim is to conquer as Nero did in Rome
Although most are still quite very far from home
Their very god of choice is their stomach and they are very far from finding their way back home...

Breathe deep in stretched contemplative prayer
In choosing words of thoughtful kindness amidst blindness
Through shadows proned in logical fragments
Possibility thinkers in wooven time spent seekers