My Mind Of It’s Own

My mind is of its own,

How can thy all say you know?

How is thy essence as mine?

How can it be?

It has weaved with own essence of life

Our walk of life are weaved diversely

Along with its all roses and thorns

Nor any ways are all paved on clouds,

All have to walk through thin ice 

Where the trust is tested

And falls

Where my vanity to sanity

Are on the edge to fall

And through the deep and wide 

Where only cold and dark lies

With a faint light

Which only a scarce eye can see

And rest is all to give up

But should you ?

All to remember

This is mortal, It will pass too

Nor meant to stay forever

And you will see

The art of life is to lead peacefully

With soul attach

To the endless journey of the soul

Not of body.