The Universe, God,
Yahweh, Jehovah, Jesus,
I know there's something.
The Nameless Artiste,
The Hidden Hand of Fate, the
mind over matter.
I worship and thank
I bow my head, unworthy
and hide my visage.
I question and ask
angry, "I deserve answers!"
and turn my visage.
But there's no escape
God/The Universe/Yahweh
is in everything.
You/Me/He/She/It
Even that person you hate
has divinity.
You are The Artiste
And also The Hand of Fate,
all matter matters.
Don't war with yourself.
Humbly search inside and claim
your divinity.
YOU ARE READING
Herban Poetry
PoetryA small but ever-growing collection of original poetry from the mind of a 19 year old pothead. This is home to a large range of thoughts, feelings, and ideas that cloud my head in poetry form.
