What is it deep down inside?
A cognition of something unconscious,
Not that it’s non conscious-able,
but that it’s undiscovered,
Why do we think that it fades?
As though just a temporary season,
Presuming it will wane away,
Into the deepest dark,
What surprise is its return?
As one deceives thyself with disbelief,
Just ignorant to it’s being,
The mind’s curtain guarding truth,
Does one truly believe lies?
Conscious of evasive mind maneuvers,
Or oblivious to these thoughts.
Never taking them captive,
Is it possible to learn?
To truly know this cognition is real,
That it cannot and it will not,
Ever completely vanish,
And would it do any good?
Should one grapple with such reality,
Possibly coming to grips,
Exposing the unexposed,
Is that question evident?
Of course the ambiguities apply,
Such as personal preference,
Regarding the obvious,
We know as the fear.
Does one have capacity?
The ability to adjust one’s focus,
To transcend the here and now,
To then engage with the fear,
Can one engage with the fear?
A complex question yields apparent truth,
Yes: ultimate victory,
No: leisurely atrophy,
The fear is waiting.