We are born alone, die alone in agony,
Yet like madness, we seek company..
In the dirty, dark & twisted corners
Filled with scheming, masked tricksters,
We bear these burdens infuriating,
Until we realise it's all for nothing.
Cause the soul is a solivagant wanderer,
It doesn't need the company of chatterers
It will end up in wounds limitless,
If it tries to dance with the toys of wickedness.
It is the distant lands, the ailing crowd,
That call the solitary spirit to serve devout.
Because in pure stillness, we find our hearts,
When we realise we're all one, yet so apart!
Solitude isn't loneliness, it's blissful serenity,
It's how we rise above any pain or calamity.
So, while the weak get lost in the mad herd,
The wisdom of solitude will never go unheard.