The vicious circle...

I don't know,
If there is any room left,
In my heart's narrow cleft.
Stop tapping at the door,
I am now dwindled
to a mere earthly whore.

See,
It's not solemn and mystic,
Not even
Humour and sarcastic.
It's something different,
Sort of concomitant.

It's not to wallow,
In the place below,
Not even to billow,
And again to follow.

It's to comprehend,
The ascend and the descend,
Rest for a while,
And let the passage beguile.

It's to become an elf,
And work on thyself,
It's to engulf,
The journey itself.

It's to cease the perpetuation,
It's to ease the liberation,
It's to end the persecution,
And it's to fend
for the blissful amalgamation.