Solemnly contemplating life and it’s insistence to progress into death, wondering what’s the reason.
Knowing that I’ll be reunited in heaven, but why? Why purgatory?
Why can’t we just skip earth and go straight there?
Isn’t earth enough of a hell as we try to better ourselves through all types of suffering and trials, failing miserably, we are essentially already in hell, then we die.
Similar Posts
Realizing hidden potential within, using intellect and wisdom to bring all of it to fruition.
Being held in reserve for me to share once I am able to.Capably being resurrected from within my soul, being carried to plains beyond sight, enjoying all sensations coming into me.It’s amazing to see these wonderful sights and knowing they are a part of my intellect and imagination.
Never leaving the interior side of intellect, fixating on my mind, recalling everything I’ve ever done in life.
Sensing the wilderness floating just below the surface, giving me expressions no one else can fathom.Left to only one person to write as quickly as I can to rhythm’s benefit.
Seeing a friend after a long time was so great.
Whatever should happen we agreed if we both go beyond life here, we’ll meet in heaven and have a party to celebrate making it at last.
Beating patterns to my inner alcoves,
I can continue writing in.Sounding out a life of feelings,expressing them through poetry andleaving them at doorways for people topick up and read.Truths are told and laid out, never tobe released as emotions tell theirstories in bluened crystal tears ofbereavement.Sololy straying down avenues of everyday countless escapades, taking all theempty kegs of knowledge and depositingthem…
Sadness penetrating barriers of inner peace, confusing, crushing a sense of self into oblivion.
Inner piercing, cutting quickly, deftly to the core of being.All attempts at normalcy are in vain, as memories claim immediate images, blacking out the future.Total abandonment fills an already empty place inside, while rejection rains continually, solidly, through time.Wishing to see out windows of life, can see nothing but rain trickling down it’s panes.Washing dirtiness…
There is a child within, watching activity of the world rotating
Listening to opinions, ideas, statements made through life, siftingand mixing them to arrive at conclusions of her own.Watching carefully, everything in sight, visualizing, imagining things in her own artistic eyes.Not seeing what many others see, alone on a separate horizon.Sensing life, dealing with emotions deep inside, separating them inlittle piles that will cause no harm.Searching…