Solitude

Reticent meditations,
Of an ascetic mind,
Virulent ramblings
Of a different kind,

It's only the road ahead,
With turns that blind,
He must travel light,
And leave everything behind,

So he chucks the world.
Into the shit sack it belongs,
He starts his journey afresh,
With the road and his songs.

He's roamed for years,
In search of peace,
In this night of solitude,
He has finally found bliss.

Takes time,
As it sinks in,
Somewhere inside,
Somewhere within. 

Switching chapters

The poet got stuck,
The reason? The muse.

Having read,
Her mind, her soul,
He knew,
This was the dead end,

He needs to close,
This Chapter that never was,
And explore,
Virtues worthy enough,

Progressing his story,
With genuine stuff,
For fallacies suck,
And he wont give a fuck,

What he wants,
is what he should get,

He wont buy,
Made up scenes,
Your shit is non existent,
It's business he means.