Riddles in Rhyme

Riddle me this, and riddle me that… Take for instance the days last week, now what the hell was that?

And just in time I found the score, and oh what a glorious day it be. But truth be told it was a while a fore it dawned. I say a score but truth be lie in time for such is thus it could be more, but neigh much less of seasons come and go. For at the time I found myself beside a choice of sorts. A simple one you say, for whom beside the devil do you think would make a choice that all and us deplore...

The choice you see; to choose a life that's good but dull, lets face it chum, or may perhaps transcend this toil of day to day with bliss that none have yet to comprehend, and call me Jack if I look back and say it isn't so; the one that sucks, with deep and dark allure it always will remain without dismay, for just as one choice call in vain, the other calls in deafening display your gain.

But I digress...

The choice be mine to make in score of seasons fore. And though in name I did proclaim that dice were cast and thus be so, in truth I always made some time to lend an ear sublime to sweetest melodies of pure allure. And then perchance or mayhap happenstance it chanced that choice beget a likely lost reality, but one where there in bush a wakening occur. A blink was all it was, but what a sight to hold... Where all that got the just reward of choices made and kept were joined in unity and bliss. So glorious the sight that merely hinted there that but a quarter score go fore and there I was again. But low believe I raised the door, and bundant with elation did I lovingly embrace the spirit at the fore.

It folded me like neigh a moment had been past and hinted of a lift to bursting heart of heights. But still it all remained a hint, a taste of things to come. But like the soup the steak become but nothing more than that. Then half a score or less I stood before the lover thus in naked trust and bare my soul to none but all that promised thus. And power did I taste. Strong and sweet like devils broth it flowed and swayed reality till nothing could persuade the truth. And brilliant and vain the score of thousands made me roar with life that even then I found it difficult in ken. In weeks to flow I found that low behold I could not start to tune back in to growth I thought would faster bloom if I but taste the vast of what the bush did hold.

But yea and verily it slowly got a rhyme, and rhythm followed soon till soaring high I flew. On grace of wings I lifted high and found the bliss that hides in moments lived in nothing more than honesty and trust. And then, just when there seemed no limit when you lose your self in trust and harmony the time arrived in perfect serendipity. Expectantly I went to court the master I had met inside the bush. Where previously I went as nothing more but a beggar, this was more in stride. And still I found the power strong inside the vent of all who went to bow before the king. But when by dark of moon and rocking tune I strode to meet my liege on high I felt not serendipity, but tribulation there on high.

Puzzled and perplexed I crashed from high to crawl in shame in what I wondered to be more than just the glory of the flesh. For when I tasted it at last it was remembered vastly more. And coming thus with wisdom fore the masses to adore in adulation, I saw myself a stranger at a loss. And wonder did me more in pain and self inflicted shame, on why and what did fail. A dark and lonely place I found where ancient lore repeat in time till sin resolve and listen to the whisper of salvation to be found in choosing the divine.

In deep and dark despair I found my self a waiting there… to show the path of bliss for nothing less sublime than this. In truth and honesty it is the only choice to choose for me. And though in times of still and reminisce I hear the call of that which choice has left behind, I know that in such kind I lose the gift of this, the choice I made in time before I took a glimpse of sin refined through making life divine.

The riddle thus be told be mine. And thank the score that told me more than lore, which showed me just a glimpse of something never more to be desired. This is the time my friend, to riddle me that, or riddle me no more