Comfort Beware

Beware of comfort

As it forges paralysis. 

Your perception is plundered

As you drink from its chalice.


You fall into anesthesia

Dancing like a ballerina,

Manipulated with invisible strings

That cut out any possible wings.


Comfort calls for your own diminishing

And latent mental death

When you end-up mimicking

Others to impress.


Should you become a critical thinker?

A free agent with no attachment?


Heaven on earth is not comfort,

But yourself sculptured

Through the constant reminder

Of awareness as its cutting edge chisel

That makes you want to whistle.