Wise man's paradise

I know not how lame,
is the colour of your game,
am not a person sane,
to my life, am a bane.

Life's open arms do greet,
treading feet is in discreet,
mingling of mind with wine,
thoughts filled like crine.

Riding on leopard time,
old scars still chime,
gives me secret elixir,
boon to wisdom's triter.

All happens for a reason,
to self-faith looks a treason,
but it is the lesson I adore,
as is found in oozing abhor.