The pattern takes over or so it seems, Taking on a life of its own, Like the tapes or complexes that switch on, Repeating over and over their inane arguments Allowing no peace to the one enduring them, Leading to an inner disquiet that leads some to death
Outer conflicts are reflections of the collective soul, Once started they become self generated Possessing in mass those involved, Leading to atrocities, Making the blood of innocents flow, Simply killing because of ones name, race, or religion.
The mind of the one absorbed into the collective trapped, With no exorcism to expel, How can you expel the soul? Violence feeds this collective entity We call nation, tribe, religion or family,
The weakest called the strong and leader.
We all call for peace While inwardly at war, With God, ourselves, others Often without our consent or will; That is what being possessed by the irrational,
With its fruit of pain is about.
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