The Beholder's One Good Eye

It is said that it is impossible to see two worlds.
Now I'm supposed to choose.

One eye is open on the world of Maya,
What I see makes me crazy, makes me weary.
Incarcerated by imagery, artifice and false hope...
I serve a prison sentence for dealing in lies,
hard time.

The other seems crusted shut, so long disused,
The promised land just behind it's atrophied lid.
But I remember the view and cannot forget
what I saw and loved so well it can't be spoken.
eternity shone there.

Freedom keeps a constant vigil while I while away
My chains familiar now,
their heaviness accepted as inevitable.
Yet...a small bird chirps a reminder,
a blown flower-petal wafts a beckoning,
a faint melody just barely heard sounds the calling:
"Come home...come home".

My world-eye is afflicted.
It needs permanent bed-rest.
I have one good eye left -
It's sight still unimpaired.
If I close the one, the other might just open.

It is said that it is impossible to see two worlds.
Now I'm supposed to choose.

Liberation!
Oraea