As actors on the grand global stage;
a backdrop change with each act;
we have scripts; are ready to engage;
interchanging illusions with fact.
Much mediocrity plays out on stage;
actors often forgetting their lines;
still, doing their very best to engage;
by plays in life, all reality’s defined.
Who determined this life, before it began;
created someone such as me;
devised a scheme and laid out a plan;
before I was able to see?
What if a mind made up, who I’m to be;
coloring my hair and dotting my eyes;
decided precisely the height of me;
Reality’s an infinite, eternal landscape;
in which, all lives reside;
a house, from which, none can escape;
even those who’ve tried.
We currently live in one of its rooms;
a separate reality, it seems;
tho we think, past and future, looms;
they’re a part of present’s
What are the limits to what we imagine;
the boundaries to all we conceive;
and more than that; what can we fathom;
all the limits to what we’ll believe?
How is it reality came about;
did such a thing always persist?
Or was it created from the inside out;
Freedom is God’s ultimate gift;
where we must always be;
government proposes it’s drift;
leading to slavery.
God gave life and freedom, above;
man has chosen a worldly king;
God promises unending Love;
government promises everything.
The brightest aren’t in charge;
nor will they ever be;
kings
Fingernails scraping a blackboard;
that’s how it’s often described;
provokes a feeling, most abhorred;
our annoyance, clearly implied.
Many things cause this reaction;
as our patience begins wearing thin;
taking only the slightest infraction;
to trigger this reaction to begin.
Perhaps it’s a sign of the times;
…The Master warned that evil be resisted;
espescially egredious, was capitulation;
for the evil one, must never be assisted;
no matter what, may be the situation;
Some evil ones are easy to resist;
for they never even bother to hide;
others masquerade to gain our assist;
hiding their evil inside.
I don’t need to spread my sorrow;
there’s already enough to go round;
when I awaken upon the morrow;
grumbling, before my feet hit ground.
I don’t need to complain about anything;
an abundance of complaints exists;
besides; what good will complaining bring;
only more and more
