Own Jailor

You build yourself into a world of ideas,

Never realising,

That to your Soul you don’t adhere.

Back the front thoughts,

Make back the front heads,

Not realising what they think is alive;

Is actually dead.

Trapped in a boxed maze,

That is your mind;

No wonder you can’t see the reality,

That all action is divine.

Get yourself out of the emotion that traps you in your game.

You got yourself here,

You have only yourself to blame.

There is nothing right and nothing wrong,

Only your inner sound,

Your heart song.

Get out of your head,

For that is what truly makes the world dead.

© 2011 Emma Sumner