Ego

Ego is the demon seed, rooted in our minds.
Being right, for what is deserved.
But what is deserved?
Are we so entitled, that we are above the next?
What of the struggles of the helpless?
Are we more deserving than those who were born with nothing?

Spirit is the presence of God within our being.
Doing right for another's needs.
What is need?
The requirement of another for their existence.
Expectation is not need, but a feeling of entitlement.
For if we are entitled, then isn't another.
We do unto others as we receive ourselves.

Ego is simply an illusion.
The inner mirror of which we stare into.
It is the binding of our mind to our bodies.
And the separation of our actions to our inner God.
Ego wants control, so God cannot have it.

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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Love's Final Breath

I know it is time.
I must shut the door.
I know you do not.
Love me anymore.

You're seeking yourself.
Which I hope you do find.
And I hope it's worth all.
That you're leaving behind.

I wish I had give you.
All that you craved.
It hurt when you told me.
That we couldn't be saved.

I knew coming clean.
The risk I would take.
To make our love new.
Hoping your love would wake.

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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Inner Light

My inner lights shines, but I go to the darkness.
Why must I always look at my weaknesses?
I know they are there, and on them, I obsess?
They try to consume me.
I believe the lies they tell me.
They are the true robbers of my joy.
They want the power of my light.
They crave to become greater than my strengths.
They will, if I let them.
Others remind me of them, like critics watching my story.
Maybe they should focus on their own.
Believe your own lies.
Give power to them.
Become your own critics.
Maybe their giants must be too big.
If they make mine bigger than theirs, they will feel better.
So I won't let them.
My light will shine so bright, it will cover the darkest areas of my being.
My strengths will slay my weaknesses.
The giant is afraid of the light.

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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The Price

There's a price for everything.
And everything has a price.
The cost may be higher.
It is never precise.

A second of pleasure.
For a lifetime of guilt.
Destroying the house,
Of love that God built.

Innocent victims,
Are killed by the blast.
Others they are maimed,
The scars forever they last.

We walk through that door,
Our morals astray,
Not knowing the price,
That will have to be paid.

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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Breaking The Chain

To find my spirit, is to free my mind.
My mind tells me what I want.
My spirit tells me what I already have.
What is pleasing to the eyes,
Is poison to the spirit.
Love things and use people.
Give the power to a thought,
Leaves me powerless.
My mind wants control of all.
My spirit says I must control myself.
For it is all I have the power to do.
If I fear I am sick,
I can will myself to feel sick.
Even though I am really well.
I live according to my fears.
My life is surrounded by my giant.
I cannot breathe.
I am suffocated, by what I imagine.
I think what once was, still is.
I fear for my future, based on my past.

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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Ever After

The life of a fairy tale.
Can be like our own.
The ending is happy.
But the story unknown.

The story begins.
Then there’s always a twist.
You can’t get to the ending.
Unless you persist.

Some stop reading the story.
When things, they look bleak.
They don’t have the strength.
Their hearts are too weak.

So they grab a new tale.
Then the reading begins.
If it ends in the middle.
Then nobody wins.

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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Blessings

Count your blessings daily.
So you know what you can lose.
The difference between what's right and wrong.
It's up to you to choose.

Just listen to your conscience.
As it lie there very still.
Are the blessings you have not worth as much.
As a cheap and worthless thrill.

A voice that speaks inside your head.
Will say that it's okay.
So you take the chance and risk it all.
Then your blessings go away.

The trust you broke, the hurt you caused.
The love that you destroyed.
You made your life a misery.
But once it gave you joy.

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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Army of One

I do not see your intention.
Only my perception.
Actions must be clear.
As words can get misconstrued.
The intent behind an action,
Must have no expectation of other.
Only the will to achieve what it set out for.
Love is a choice, love is an action.
So is disappointment.
What do I choose?
I choose to be free.
Free of expectations, free of disappointment, free of fear.
To love unconditionally is the only way.
It is okay to be scared,
But it is not okay to let the fear control me.
If fear controls, fear wins.
If fear stops me, I have nothing to lose.
I have nothing to win either.
His will, my determination, my desire, His Glory.
I will lay my life down for such things.

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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Forgiveness: The Greatest Lesson Ever Learned

Forgiveness,
The greatest lesson ever learned,
From the greatest story ever told.
But is it a story or a promise?
If you do this, you will get this.
That is a promise.
He did this and this is what he experienced.
That is a story.
Simply an outcome.
Their outcome.
What if this were your story?
Could it be the same outcome?
If you do not try, you will never find out.
A muscle being worked out,
Experiences pain, then growth.
The heart is a muscle.
Growth comes from pain.
Am I angry that I am hurt?
Or should I accept?
Others have hurt me,

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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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My Mind Is An Oyster

The heart, can only be as open as the mind.
The mind, the creator of my world.
Not the world, but my world.
The mind, building walls.
Walls of fear, resentment and bitterness.
The spirit is trapped.
Bouncing from heart to mind.
Like a ping pong ball.
For it is my mind that is closed.
I listened to the teachings of other closed minded teachers.
They speak of a peace, they do not have.
The preach of a love, that they still seek.
The world is my oyster.
My mind is an oyster.
To find the pearl, the shell must first open up.
It is once the mind opens, I can connect to the source.
The source that tells me I am the true treasure.
I see so many closed shells.
For their pearl is as brilliant as mine.
But through the closed shell it cannot be seen.

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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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