Ebb and flow

Something in my cave

plays a vital part.

These pieces of a man

on base 

layed as a child. 

Mind's a tool that can enslave;

habitual habits chains.

Gut 

feels the keys to all that's right, 

same keys for what is broken.

Scattered 'round the cave,

remains of dead endeavours.
Seeds of hope; dormant dreams;
nebulous plans and mangled schemes.

Ghosts

of the shadow

as deep as my marrow.

Tightly pulling strings in the present state of things.

The teased and the tease,
whose cheek the teacher would squeeze.
A seeker duly learns

kowledge is its own reward.

To doubts what was
lets you renew what is.
I remember dreams a ghost dreamt;

did this child really exist..

Worlds apart, we are close as kin.

The ebb comes and goes,

soul afloat in the flow.