The Inevitable Barrier
Man can be a prisoner of his own making.
We can build up barriers to a freer life by the
hang-ups which we seem bent on possessing.
By trial and error we should be able to learn
and to grow beyond this mental perimeter of our psyche.
We are prisoners just as if we had physical structures
hindering our movements and lifestyles.
Therefore, would it not be just as well to be
locked away in a prison of boundaries where we
are left to an eternity of never ending restrictions?
Is man really free when he is on the outside
Looking in, or to say, as a free man apart from
the established correctional institutions of our society?
Is death a welcome end to this eternal imprisonment
of our physical bodies?
Death, however, is permanent and comes swiftly
through the grim reapers door.
All dreamers of freedom, whether minute to the
smallest icon of reality, leave some room for
a sense of being.
When death comes, we seek to fight it, for to give
in would be to let life beat us even until eternity.
A deathly punishment reaped upon our souls is
as ghostly and horrendous as man can inflict.
Is it not a sin to commit murder by taking
the life of another human being?
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An Unjust Resolve
Persecution and how it thrives is almost
mythical in its origin.
From the time man was able to think
he has been subjected to this most unjust form of hostility.
From what realm is hostility allowed
to ferment and permeate its egotistical bastion.
Persecution can be dealt out by the
strong among us upon the kind, more gentle souls of us.
What then does persecution serve as a purpose of cause?
Is persecution a method by which the most wicked of the
human species use to crush and annihilate the weakened man?
Is its purpose, as compared to war and famine,
in which we clear the earth of unwanted waste?
In the end how sad for mankind that the strongest aspect
of our existence is the persecution of man.
Where is Love?
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As We Grow Old
Some people say that growing old
is not so great and so IÕm told.
Some people say we must be bold,
but others simply just grow cold.
As from the beginning, we are born
in a state of void.
So does it end when our time comes,
that from whence we came we come again.
And, from the beginning we know of
nothing.
Some seek out knowledge while
others merely play along.
And, in this world of question and
uncertainty,
Who is to say which path a man will take?
And, in this world of mystery and
awe,
Who will believe that there is a God?
Some wonder if there is a purpose to
life,
While others continue to struggle and strife.
And, who is to say that there is no
purpose in death?
And, who is to say that our lives are
not pre-ordained?
And, who can say when looking up
above,
That a presence is here and much
beloved?
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