And there you sit -
contemplating a word,
the other one wrote
that you read,
that they -
had the courage
to throw
into the ring
the choice to take
one’s own;
many times
that thought
arrived
in your own time,
it came and went
turned around
it came and went
lingering
cajoling
ever present
what then?
the world abruptly left,
those behind falling
into ruins
never to be peaced back
together again.
fullstop.
all for a dead end.
what a waste
those full stops are,
when saved to
crown an eye;
freedom;
the choice always given,
is always yours to take,
never theirs -
but what a waste
those full stops are,
when saved to
crown an eye
Candide Diderot. ‘24
I fear my life is on the shelf or deep within my flesh;
I fear my life is over now before it’s even won;
I fear my life will soon be gone and it is not enough;
I fear my words will live in vain; I fear I am naive;
I fear my heart will break in half before the lightening flash.
Where is my birth? Where is my truth?
I sit in place. A life escape.
I type out words. They have no swords.
They sit apart. They cry for parts.
I seek the truth of proof of life,
I seek a peaced release from strife,
I seek a place my face finds ease,
I seek my home, I come for peace,
I seek the truth, my search to cease.
I find the book upon the shelf and read of god becoming flesh.
I find my life will never end and read of how o’er death He won.
I find my time may soon be gone but it will be enough.
I find the words are not naive and life is not in vain.
I fear no more the storm of life and trust my heart to God.
If I believe what I am told,
From words within this Book of old,
There is no death, just man’s release,
Eternal breath, and heaven’s peace.
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