What a waste of time, to hold my hand
A waste of love and affection
For most certainly, I am what I am
And you will always face rejection
My fiercesome conviction bids me to turn
Away from all hope of love
Sooner or later everyone learns
I strongly urge all to give up
I give what I can, only take what I must
And retreat into the world I created
And while all I hold dear crumbles to dust
My taste for pain remains unsated
A smile by day, a phantom by night
Haunting the halls of my lonely exsistence
A fragile bird always poised to take flight
Eternally weakened by my strongest defences
So where does that leave me? Cold and alone
Peering into the chasm I built for my heart
My unwavering pride has been carved out of stone
I rest miserably assured it will never break apart
The best of the worst is always my fare
Uncertainty is a most cruel beast
While some have been able to catch me unaware
Others have deemed me the worst of the least
So that leaves me here, scared and uncertain
Spirit always yearning to knock on the door
To finally tear back this immovable curtain
And joyfully find that there is so much more
More thah what I know, more than I see
So much more than I dared to hope for
Oh God if it's possible, please let there be
A chance to breathe and fear it all no more
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
The fool
The fool will think that they alone will survive
The strongest and wisest to escape here alive
Every battle plan has been perfectly laid
The numbing fury will always sustain
The world falls into ruin while they sit there in rapture
Feeding on bread from their merciless captors
Biting the hand that holds out to save
Falling into the depths of a watery grave
Feasting on wine from poisonous veins
Clothing themselves in the finest of chains
Tormented cries fall on deaf ears
Utterly blind to their fellow mans tears
Confused and angry, a hatred for hope
The only option to seek is firmly letting go
Chasing every possible pleasure
Polishing every worthless treasure
Pulling down strength from uncaring eyes
Springing every trap, believing every lie
A harsh opinion this is known to be
None so jaded and cynical as me
I must ponder this before laying down rule
Is how many times have I been the fool?
The strongest and wisest to escape here alive
Every battle plan has been perfectly laid
The numbing fury will always sustain
The world falls into ruin while they sit there in rapture
Feeding on bread from their merciless captors
Biting the hand that holds out to save
Falling into the depths of a watery grave
Feasting on wine from poisonous veins
Clothing themselves in the finest of chains
Tormented cries fall on deaf ears
Utterly blind to their fellow mans tears
Confused and angry, a hatred for hope
The only option to seek is firmly letting go
Chasing every possible pleasure
Polishing every worthless treasure
Pulling down strength from uncaring eyes
Springing every trap, believing every lie
A harsh opinion this is known to be
None so jaded and cynical as me
I must ponder this before laying down rule
Is how many times have I been the fool?
Thursday, October 6, 2011
St. Augustine's confessions
One of my favorite writings of St. Augustine.
What, then, is my God? What, I ask, unless the Lord God? Who is Lord but the Lord? Or who is God but our God?
Most high, most good, most mighty, most almighty; most merciful and most just; most hidden and most present; most beautiful and most strong; stable and incomprehensible; unchangeable, yet changing all things; never new and never old, yet renewing all things; leading proud men into senility, although they know it not; ever active, and ever at rest, gathering in, yet needing nothing; supporting, fulfilling, and protecting things; creating, nourishing, and perfecting them; searching them out, although nothing is lacking in You.
You love, but are not inflamed with passion; you are jealous, yet free from care; you repent, but do not sorrow; you grow angry but remain tranquil. You change your works, but do not change your plan; you take back what you find, although You never lost it; You are never in want, but You rejoice in gain, You are never covetous, yet You exact usury. Excessive payments are made to You, so that You may be our debtor, yet who has anything that is not Yours? You pay debts, although You owe no man anything; You cancel debts, and lose nothing. What have we said, my God, my life, my holy delight? Or what does any man say when he speaks of You? Yet woe to those who keep silent concerning You, since even those who speak much are as the dumb.
What, then, is my God? What, I ask, unless the Lord God? Who is Lord but the Lord? Or who is God but our God?
Most high, most good, most mighty, most almighty; most merciful and most just; most hidden and most present; most beautiful and most strong; stable and incomprehensible; unchangeable, yet changing all things; never new and never old, yet renewing all things; leading proud men into senility, although they know it not; ever active, and ever at rest, gathering in, yet needing nothing; supporting, fulfilling, and protecting things; creating, nourishing, and perfecting them; searching them out, although nothing is lacking in You.
You love, but are not inflamed with passion; you are jealous, yet free from care; you repent, but do not sorrow; you grow angry but remain tranquil. You change your works, but do not change your plan; you take back what you find, although You never lost it; You are never in want, but You rejoice in gain, You are never covetous, yet You exact usury. Excessive payments are made to You, so that You may be our debtor, yet who has anything that is not Yours? You pay debts, although You owe no man anything; You cancel debts, and lose nothing. What have we said, my God, my life, my holy delight? Or what does any man say when he speaks of You? Yet woe to those who keep silent concerning You, since even those who speak much are as the dumb.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
The essence of You
Searching for signs my heart is still beating
Trying to staunch the flows of it's bleeding
Lifting my eyes and lowering my head
On the crooked path my dusty feet must tread
My fingers are clutching these pieces of glass
Stubbornly refusing to let the misery pass
Throwing myself into the fury of the storm
As the waves of bitterness slowly take form
I pause for a moment to ponder my fate
Struggling to think in my ignorant state
Is this what I want, to shatter my dreams?
To unravel my life and tear at the seams?
I know I want more, more than all this
There's a plan for my life I don't want to miss
How can rise I rise above the merciless waves
How can I be free from this inevitable grave?
I want the essence of You to be the essence of me
The path that I walk, the air that I breathe
The song on my lips, the dance of my feet
The laughter of my soul, and my every heartbeat
I want pictures of me to be relfections of You
In everything I say and in all that do
Let there be only one thing that I desperately seek
That the essence of You, be the essence of me
Trying to staunch the flows of it's bleeding
Lifting my eyes and lowering my head
On the crooked path my dusty feet must tread
My fingers are clutching these pieces of glass
Stubbornly refusing to let the misery pass
Throwing myself into the fury of the storm
As the waves of bitterness slowly take form
I pause for a moment to ponder my fate
Struggling to think in my ignorant state
Is this what I want, to shatter my dreams?
To unravel my life and tear at the seams?
I know I want more, more than all this
There's a plan for my life I don't want to miss
How can rise I rise above the merciless waves
How can I be free from this inevitable grave?
I want the essence of You to be the essence of me
The path that I walk, the air that I breathe
The song on my lips, the dance of my feet
The laughter of my soul, and my every heartbeat
I want pictures of me to be relfections of You
In everything I say and in all that do
Let there be only one thing that I desperately seek
That the essence of You, be the essence of me
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)