Heaven
Entire world is a stage
And all men and women merely players
It is what Shakespeare said in one of his plays
At first I did not understand what he meant
In other play one of his characters says
Life is design by a fool tale told by an idiot
The words made sense but total meaning escaped me once again
Yet it seemed more realistic as I got older
As life turned its back towards me
I realized than what Shakespeare meant
And I liked it even less than before
I understand that nobody whishes to bear this existence alone
But he wanted to put me into his dismal reality
My English teacher didn’t want to share his pain with me
He wanted me to experience misery
So I would become evil that extent at the time not comprehendible to me that he was
But all life is design by a fool
But that begs the question what heaven would be like
If it is true heaven than what is there cannot be described
Or imagined by anybody
Place where life is no longer design by a fool
Perfect
Many people say this is perfect or that is perfect
But truth is we cannot imagine perfection
And even if we can imagine infinity beyond our grasp still is perfection
Some stories describe a vine on which one climbs to heaven
But in reality if one could find vine that long he would simply reach beyond atmosphere
Yet there is a place where life is no longer tale told by an idiot
And if it’s hard to find outside one can make such a place in once own soul
Place that is perfect
Place divine
Place that cannot be described or imagined
But if heaven is purely abstract it begs the question what is beyond abstract
Copyright © Patrycjusz Kopec | Year Posted 2015
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