Poetry

Old Lore.

Wade your way through murky waters,
Tread with caution, my dear
For the world out there is not
as rosy as it seems,
the rule of thumb
that runs out there;
for each her own

Your utopian ideas of the world,
are far from true, my dear
for it is a harsh battlefield
where you fight for your due
and do your deed with dilligence

These murky waters, as hazy as they seem,
get clearer as you reach the center
No one has seen the end, my dear
But we know one thing for sure
The way is as radiant
as you make it to be.

Fret not, my dear
These words are mere thoughts
and all that counts
is the goodness in your heart.
Once you let that go,
you might win the war
But consider the battle lost.