Ran out of ink but not of thought ... does that mean I’m staring

Deep inside where reason starts ... and where no lights are glaring?

Where a candle is very bright ... and where every thought is muffled

Where conscience and purpose meet ... where right and wrong do hustle.

All thoughts start in the heart we know ... for as in the heart you “thinketh”

That is the way you are my friend ... as your boat floats or “sinketh”.

The “Fall” travels far ahead ... far before the failing action

In intentions so to underwrite ... every part and fraction.

“I meant well” a cry of guilt ... born in vague artificial excuses

A land where compromise resides … an environment full of abuses.

It is true sometimes we’re blind ... to what will follow our decisions

But mostly deep from within ... our conscience has lost its vision.

It has been slapped and kicked so much ... that it hides in a corner

Whispering to a heart turned deaf ... except to desires of its longing.

That heart believes it can do no wrong ... and that has been long decided

For it is to love and live in never land ... to rule itself there undivided.