Anonymous
Guest
Blood pooling around me,
We can feel it.
The end coming for us,
An anti-climax to our stories.
Reaching out the only way we can,
Writhing in agony,
In the face of absolution, all that's left is
Reflection.
Seeding doubts littering our mind,
That maybe to die sooner would've been better.
Instead we pretended to be something we aren't,
Bystanders.
Passive observers of a universe we did not want to be apart of,
Forced to endure a reality of suffering.
Yet we found a reason to become a part of
the whole.
Some of us had fallen so far our wings were broken,
Never thought to fly again,
A crow without flight,
A person without purpose.
But a crow is more than their wings,
They are a beak,
Talons,
But all they need is a connection,
A voice,
And they can soar again.
Fear is his tool.
Fear is what keeps us down.
Connection,
The template to our success.
It is all that stands against Him.
We will not be afraid any longer.
Fear to connect,
Fear to love,
Binds us,
Makes us slaves,
To ourselves.
But we can learn to re-connect,
One day at a time,
We can learn to love again.
Horrible things have been done
In the name of love.
Murder,
Death,
Destruction,
It's the only constant.
Purpose will save us,
Purpose will lead us to the source.
Purpose, connection, love.
They are all one in the same,
They are what's kept so many stories going,
Which could've ended.
But they do not keep me from bleeding out on this gravel road,
These stories that could've ended will end,
And I am afraid.
Afraid that my purpose wouldn't survive,
That our connection would end,
That the love I left behind won't know in what could be my last moments I thought of her.
That I didn't do enough,
Again.
.
.
.
This story will not end,
Our story goes on,
Because of a simpleton of all things.
What drives him?
We can feel it.
The end coming for us,
An anti-climax to our stories.
Reaching out the only way we can,
Writhing in agony,
In the face of absolution, all that's left is
Reflection.
Seeding doubts littering our mind,
That maybe to die sooner would've been better.
Instead we pretended to be something we aren't,
Bystanders.
Passive observers of a universe we did not want to be apart of,
Forced to endure a reality of suffering.
Yet we found a reason to become a part of
the whole.
Some of us had fallen so far our wings were broken,
Never thought to fly again,
A crow without flight,
A person without purpose.
But a crow is more than their wings,
They are a beak,
Talons,
But all they need is a connection,
A voice,
And they can soar again.
Fear is his tool.
Fear is what keeps us down.
Connection,
The template to our success.
It is all that stands against Him.
We will not be afraid any longer.
Fear to connect,
Fear to love,
Binds us,
Makes us slaves,
To ourselves.
But we can learn to re-connect,
One day at a time,
We can learn to love again.
Horrible things have been done
In the name of love.
Murder,
Death,
Destruction,
It's the only constant.
Purpose will save us,
Purpose will lead us to the source.
Purpose, connection, love.
They are all one in the same,
They are what's kept so many stories going,
Which could've ended.
But they do not keep me from bleeding out on this gravel road,
These stories that could've ended will end,
And I am afraid.
Afraid that my purpose wouldn't survive,
That our connection would end,
That the love I left behind won't know in what could be my last moments I thought of her.
That I didn't do enough,
Again.
.
.
.
This story will not end,
Our story goes on,
Because of a simpleton of all things.
What drives him?