I call upon the strong; This journey is rigorous,
This path is not for the meek; I've warned you,
If your heart is weak I beg you to run; Run back to your imagined world,
But if you deem yourself fierce; Then march my brother,
To an unknown destination; March steadfastly,
March through the barren desert; Towards yourself,
Distancing yourself from the collective; Closer to the singular one,
The collective's creation once called self; Is burned and crippled by the journey,
Bordering death the traveler is burned naked; Leaving only his maskless self,
A self he does not recognize; But knows is true,
Lost and alone in the vast desert; He has found the destination,
I know not where you will find yours; I know not where I will find mine,
All that is known is the task at hand; A killing,
This is the killing of the collective's creation; This is the discovery of the one within,
There is nothing nobler; No one nobler than him aligned with his true self,
Few are noble; Most are lost behind their masks,
Lost they are; With no intention of being found,
But my friend; What lives behind your eyes looks to be found,
I again warn you; The journey is only for the strong of heart,
But to those brave souls who seek to be found; I give my compassion,
Burn away your false selves; Leave only what is true to you,
This is the journey; This is the discovery of your true self.
~ Jervis McEntee - Mount Desert Island - 1864
