Reparations for the soul

Alternating frequencies of false equivalencies… that is the calamity that fuels our absence of morality.

We wander through the trails of our life seething.

Seemingly oblivious to the fact that anger without discernment is a purgatory that few are granted a parole from.

A path without a map.

A ship without a sail.

Our past is the currency – but history is not sexy and accordingly it is cast aside.

The past is our treasure.

Within its depths are the reparations – for our callous disregard of the lessons that cried out for acknowledgment.

Instructions that were muffled by the serial crimes of our haughtiness.

Lest we die without redemption.

Published by Shun P. Writes

Author, Genealogist, Writer, Poet, Pocast Host, possessor of 2 cents, Blogger and eternal student of life, who harbors a firm belief in his Grandmother's mantra that: "People need to get off of their rump and do something". All while keeping in mind that a cheering section will often get in the way. View all posts by Shun P. Writes