False Joy Poem by Chris Noir

In this temple one might find,
Everything that heart desires,
Every flavor of passion, of fire,
Every way to quench the thirst of mind.
In this temple you shall find.

Through these gates one goes alone,
And never leaves, nor wants to leave,
Through these gates, those who believe,
Go beyond, And on and on.....
Through these gates, I go...alone

By this lake one soundly sleeps.
While the waves gently bring the calm,
While the waters drowns them slow,
And takes the soul to boundless deep.
By this lake, I dare not sleep.

From these woods, there's no return,
The trees cover the morning sun,
Their dark green dubs the day undone,
There no nightly fires burn.
From these woods, you won't return.

I'd rather pray where there is truth,
I'd rather go where there's no gate,
I'd rather sleep where's dry and safe,
I'd rather go through fields.The woods I leave to you.

For If a temple offers nothing,
except what you want to hear,
And the gates lead far,
far away from here,
If sleep makes you weak and dull,
And woods hide the light from you,
Wouldn't you choose another path,
A path more righteous and true?

In this life, one might choose.
Everything that they hold dear,
They might even disappear,
But those who don't try are bound to loose.
In this life, I FIGHT to choose!