
Photo by Michael Erickson
Ascension is what I seek,
Progression forward.
I crave illumination,
So far from my reach.
With mortal breath,
My soul drifts through weakness.
Bone filled with corruption,
Seeks renewal.
To thrust my consciousness upwards,
A higher plane must be reached.
Push upon the limits of this existence,
As clouds wreathing this world.
One foot fall at a time,
With a mouthful of humility.
A lifetime of failure,
Paving forth a foundation of eternity.
Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.
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