A Solitary Life
All of life began within the womb;
where the script of being was writ;
we serve the Master, until the tomb;
faithfully following his script.
Lessons are learned; from those given;
and many, we never expected;
by internal forces, all are driven;
tho some lessons are rejected.
Every life is predicated on some menu;
it isn’t served, as a smorgasbord;
each soul is unique; and so is the venue;
tho, sometimes its meals are deplored.
Once we are born; all dies have been cast;
our place in this life, frozen;
a character in a play; first line to last;
a role, each soul has chosen.
Each soul lives out the life in his play;
that role selected by him, alone;
the difference of all, is as night to day;
remaining, until he comes home.
Actors are granted freedoms for a season;
but, rivers are destined to flow to the sea;
within life; all things happen for a reason;
destiny dictates: you be you; and I be me.
Each life that we live; we live as a clown;
so souls can learn to love and engage;
but, when that final curtain comes down;
a party is waiting, to begin, backstage.
Monty 9/10/22. # 1,281