A Combustion Internal

Time is the fuel to conscience and it’s ascent
As if an engine,
on fire inside
A combustion internal
A mighty tree made
From simply a kernel

For eternity
Have I turned to me
In trials and times of trying
In failure and utterances of lying
Vexing and vying

Working out with fear and trembling
For salvation is it never unforgiving
A seat at the table
A role in his cosmic fable

Why still do i seek a human label?
Identity is nowhere found to be more unstable
Than when it rests on the fulcrum of fleshly conceptions
Whimsical, wayward and seeking a meek reception