Walls do not exist
They’re figments of imagination
Designed to blind our consciousness
From what we’re afraid of facing
There are walls that are made of money
There are walls that are made of stone
And walls that are made of false beliefs
Passed down but not our own
Our walls are what protect us
They tell us who we are
And they also tell us who we aren’t
To keep those who aren’t us very far
Almost everybody has them
It’s how we maintain our borders
So those who know that they aren’t real
Are often caught defying orders
We see them as the outcasts
At best they are the martyrs
We take those who are simply living Truth
And we make them movement starters
That’s how we define them
Using retrospection
Approving of them after death
While in life they got rejection
In our guilt we make them heroes
We make them even greater in our minds
We tell ourselves we revere them
But in truth we’re drawing lines
“This far and no further”
Is what we’re really trying to say
“The quickest way to get a statue
Is to go the martyr’s way.”
Now we’re making walls with dreamers
And most of us don’t know
They want to make us famous
So we have nowhere to go
But here’s the thing that we don’t get
I was serious about what I said
Our walls truly do not exist
They’re all made up in our head
Taking away the body
Does not take away the being
We think we’ve put a stop to Truth
But we don’t know what we are freeing
Yeshua called it the last enemy
Because it’s the one that never was
And from it we’ve created worlds
Built on the premise that it does
It’s the Wall that shapes all walls
Telling the lie, “There’s nothing left.”
But once we see the other side
We know there’s no such thing as death
Now the walls begin to crumble
Once we know that they’re not there
And all of a sudden Yeshua makes sense
When he tells us don’t be scared
You can’t imagine what you can imagine
When there’s nothing there to stop you
The first thing that you realize
It that the ego self is not you
We’ve just been dreaming limitation
When in reality there is none
But soon we’ll know ourselves as we are known
The very image of the Son
© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II
It's All In Me - Poetry Blog 