it experience suffering possibility

 

Britches biggerer

 He struts in finery, not truly his own.

His decrees echo from a imitated throne.

His narrative built, on seeds he has sown.

But history's harvest is strangely grown.

Freedom truth mind own

 

I no best

 To truly know, you must let go

The urge to judge, to steal the show.

For humble minds, in truth they find,

A richer now, for all mankind.

You counting underthinking enemy

 

Victory one oxen stupid

 

Muddled aye

 I peer in peace, A placid pool,

My muddled mind starts to cool.

High sky's true hue, I now can spy,

No lie, just light in mine own eye.