Trapt

O Mind! Fickle and cruel o'er aught else; No Escape of wings and feet. I run, yet fall. In this soft trap I find only hard woe. Were that I could find words to stand so tall. Find new heights. Find myself. Fix myself. Intelligence, sew strong its thread of worth. Worthy insofar as having a wealth Of "skill"; capacity. Safety; a dearth Is within me. Struggle, fulfill, succeed. A fight 'gainst that nature. Secrets all kept E'en from white paper. All kept inside. A creed To keep. Conscious, unshorn truth; we all wept. O! Keep on track, my friend. Existence Is not so bad as to deny all, hence.