Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Grievances wash up
Along resentment’s shore.
As we hold onto grudges
Like seashells we adore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Language’s lattice bears fruit
In the mind’s pergola’s sweet-scented store.
As we pick the ripe analogies,
And bite into the juicy metaphor.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Kindness is a strategy
Against natural war.
As we plant affection
To reap in a season of rapport.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Evil destroys the soul’s empire
Like a marauding conquistador.
As we choose death
In the rapture of war.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Fear stops us cold
Like the steely stare of the minotaur.
As we spend decades
All too scared to explore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Love is life’s
Rare secret splendor,
Reveling in anticipation
As we approach the sacred door.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Death is waiting, stalking
As we distract ourselves to ignore
The pale fist knocking,
Knocking at our door.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Desire runs through veins
Like junkies in a drugstore.
Learning to want
By wanting more.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Above hostility’s vent
Of smoldering vapor,
Violence’s magma churns,
Churns the fateful ore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Envy burns a hole
Through desire’s floor.
As we annex our neighbor’s dreams
Through the department store.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Truth dwells in tender
Moments of candor,
As we feel the presence
Of truth’s underscore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Secrets become impossible
To ignore,
As weighty and starved
As a dinosaur.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Passion is a frenzied
Esprit De Corp,
As lust becomes
The secrets we swore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Humility is folded up
In a drawer,
As unassuming as a Sunday
Chore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Status stands like Estrada
In Ecuador,
As we believe rank is real
In the blood-stained mouth of the carnivore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Shame looks away
Like a guilty whore,
As we confront our past
In what we abhor.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Music is felt
In the heart’s beat four,
As the song is sung
From the troubadour.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Ego talks and talks and talks
Like a bloviating bore,
As we see the true mind
When bowing for our encore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Childhood memories
Refresh and restore,
As we wonder if we’ll ever
Be that happy anymore.
In the Human Core,
Grievances wash up
Along resentment’s shore.
As we hold onto grudges
Like seashells we adore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Language’s lattice bears fruit
In the mind’s pergola’s sweet-scented store.
As we pick the ripe analogies,
And bite into the juicy metaphor.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Kindness is a strategy
Against natural war.
As we plant affection
To reap in a season of rapport.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Evil destroys the soul’s empire
Like a marauding conquistador.
As we choose death
In the rapture of war.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Fear stops us cold
Like the steely stare of the minotaur.
As we spend decades
All too scared to explore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Love is life’s
Rare secret splendor,
Reveling in anticipation
As we approach the sacred door.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Death is waiting, stalking
As we distract ourselves to ignore
The pale fist knocking,
Knocking at our door.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Desire runs through veins
Like junkies in a drugstore.
Learning to want
By wanting more.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Above hostility’s vent
Of smoldering vapor,
Violence’s magma churns,
Churns the fateful ore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Envy burns a hole
Through desire’s floor.
As we annex our neighbor’s dreams
Through the department store.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Truth dwells in tender
Moments of candor,
As we feel the presence
Of truth’s underscore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Secrets become impossible
To ignore,
As weighty and starved
As a dinosaur.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Passion is a frenzied
Esprit De Corp,
As lust becomes
The secrets we swore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Humility is folded up
In a drawer,
As unassuming as a Sunday
Chore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Status stands like Estrada
In Ecuador,
As we believe rank is real
In the blood-stained mouth of the carnivore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Shame looks away
Like a guilty whore,
As we confront our past
In what we abhor.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Music is felt
In the heart’s beat four,
As the song is sung
From the troubadour.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Ego talks and talks and talks
Like a bloviating bore,
As we see the true mind
When bowing for our encore.
Buried, buried deep
In the Human Core,
Childhood memories
Refresh and restore,
As we wonder if we’ll ever
Be that happy anymore.
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