Soul's Rhyme of the Time

Looking for an alliance,

With many in defiance;

A book that took,

With many things overlooked.

Maybe to explain,

Because of the pain;

Here to ascertain,

That which remains.

With many detained,

Here being estranged;

Yet the message rearranged,

So many tell me they're ordained;

Which sounds quite strange,

When we ponder what is arranged.

Whilst some might say we’re in Heaven,

Have a look at the moldy leaven;

Where everything rots,

Have we forgot?

We’re here to grow,

Like a plant you know;

In compost we live,

That we might give;

Yet no fruit we find,

As most are in some form of bind.

It’s faith that should sprout;

Yet religions took that word and spelled it out.

Changing it into doubt;

Rather than something devout.

Faith means to trust,

Not as discussed,

With some label to entrust;

So carefully readjust,

As much of that is lust.

Making it incomplete,

Where it’s becoming obsolete;

Instead of being concrete,

Like a pro athlete.

A soul can glisten,

Hopefully to listen,

Where there is no division;

Oneness as a definition.