Still Thou Seekest, A Poem

A man is split,
yea, split within himself.

One hand doth build,
one hand doth burn.

One tongue doth pray,
one tongue doth thirst.

One eye seeks God,
one eye seeks gold.

And still thou seekest, yea, still thou seekest.

O man,
thou art thy own battlefield.

Thou art the horse,
and the rider.

Thou art the flame,
and the ash.

Thou art the hunger,
and the fast.

And still thou seekest, yea, still thou seekest.