Pride

Pride
By Mark Spencer

The nature of pride misleads us;
An ego filled with air.
It's the illusion of greatness,
When no greatness is there.

He wants to feel like he's special,
More aware than the rest.
She wants us to think she's holy,
That she's divinely blessed.

Pride separates the human race,
One soul from another.
It makes one feel greater than his
Sister or his brother.

For if his words are filled with pride,
They'll overstate his worth.
And make him sound as if he could
Bring peace upon the earth.

He'll strut about, as if he knows
What everyone should know.
He claims the path, he walks, will lead
Where everyone should go.

But pride is what holds peace at bay,
For egos need their due.
How can he give you accolades,
If he seeks them from you?

If one is right, the rest are wrong,
Though pride makes no mistakes.
If everybody thinks they're right,
The tension never breaks.

But what is right, and what is wrong?
Truth makes that distinction.
A fact that will continue long
After our extinction.

For truth does not speak empty words,
From it we cannot hide.
It lays us bare for all to see,
And strips away our pride.

It humbles the most haughty soul,
Exposing its conceit;
The masks it wears just melt away,
Consumed in its defeat.

No matter how much noise pride makes,
The truth can't be concealed;
Whatever lay beneath the veil,
Will one day be revealed.

Yet if we choose a humble path,
And overcome our pride,
Enlightenment will fill the heart,
And truth will be our guide.

But truth requires that we submit,
And accept what is right.
While pride accepts no truth beyond,
What it chooses to write.

So what choice do you think we've made,
To man, which has applied?
Have we submitted to the truth,
Or listened to our pride?