There is something within every human being That is of another world Within which we all exist If only subconsciously, And within this sacred place there resides A primitive sense of bliss And a peaceful desire for what is good and wholesome And good and wholesome alone. As childhood departs This utopia is buried, smothered, forgotten, Sometimes lost, Sometimes never recovered, But still, it is there, And if all of society’s and humanity’s sinful desires vanished, All that would exist would be this ancient wisdom, This knowing that is beyond all words, This understanding that is comprehensible only in thought And that every language seeks to express Yet never quite does. And in this unadulterated realization, All warring would cease, All discord would end, All hate would disperse, And all greedy desires would dissipate, And all that would remain would be, As the English language so simply terms it, Love.
isn't it funny how language is the reason we can express though, yet it limits our scope of thought so much?
