Egos Must Die
By R. Cary
Written asycnchronuously with hope looming a mirage appears
Translucent, an evanescence seen through almost as beyond
Laying to rest an appearance appears, a story begins to tell;
Awoke, never forgotten, a tale of seeking began, a tale of
Hell will be ran I hold my head high, a pretentious bow as
I never will when humans beckon to break consecration an
Ego demands, hatred felt, all eyes pierce through the mirage
Appearance deceives, a questioning of doubt as mist rises clarity
Is consumed sweltering felt as faith denied, but belief never shall die
And this moment of lapse will cease its will in quietness remembering
Will occur, as too many years caused benign acquiescence to human
Weakness perceived, a structure of losses or a structure of gaining
Mounting resurrection of how we arrived as mountains grew we all
Climbed letting all fall as the air thinned lighter all grew, higher we
went, another throne claimed as we each toss the rope for the next
To arrive as gathering spirits living on these mountains edge, so we
Claimed what was right and when one fell as lost, even when under
A guise we stopped with our hand, intention dispersed but in action
All the same, when a god whispers in our ears our hearts expand
Letting more in, when manipulation arose only forward our bodies
Moved rinsing dusts from our cloths of will for choices held not as
Penance but in goods might, visciousness of resolve living as our
Mantra driving actions, compulsions of I, we always fight for more,
A claiming of the hauntings roving our land, we will never fail even
When purpose has changed, continue to adapt, we listen closely
To what is asked, removing ourselves to get a better view of the
Mountains ahead taller than the sky when heaven meets earth
And all the gods stare asking for egos must die to unleash our
True selves here on earth, a story we are all seeking to define;
The story of us humans is the story of us all, if we just see for
A moment what we are being told, in each new lesson learned
Is a new journey begun as destiny is always beyond the mountains
Ridge, never to be reached as this is just the muse we chase till we
Begin to feel, it was never one more nor a process gained but in the
Touch of hand, the grip of another where the parable becomes seen
End
Egos Must Die
By R. Cary
Copyright 2026
Poetry & Prose By R. Cary 