mrjamacianbob
The blindness of this world,
Oh! How it taunts me,
Oh why must the people of this world be blinded by the light of lies,
Rather than see in the darkness of truth?
Why must things be this way?
I may never know,
But I know one thing for sure,
This time, we just might lose...
Bandages to cover thee blood
Bandages to cover the cut,
Bandages to help heal the wound,
It all seems so helpful, but...
Bandages also hide you from the world,
When your face is all scared and christened as hurt,
Yet deep down inside you want to break free,
So tear off the gauze without any disconcert
One Two,
We'll rise for you,
Three Four,
We'll even the score,
Five Six,
Burn your bucket list,
Seven Eight,
We've sealed your fate,
Nine Ten,
They're gone again
Science and Religion complement each other perfectly. The theory of Evolution and the Big Bang Theory cannot be properly explained through science, as many points may be questioned to the point the scientist says "Because it happened". However, religion explains it with no question. And when religion cannot explain the processes of the human body, science can. Whether you like it or not, religion and science goes hand in hand.
Imagination. It's harnessing any possibility and every impossibility and making an idea. A story. Something that grabs the wandering eye, or perhaps the not-so-wandering eye. It's always just... there.
Just because you've had a bad day, doesn't mean the world collapses. The world is still rotating, everyone in motion around you. Sure, everybody has days where you just want to flop over and die, but remember there's still tomorrow.
He fell to the floor, his eyes glazed over, his lips crusted shut, and he lay still. For it was at this moment, I realized the man was finally dead. Yes, dead by my hand. And I stared down at him, and smiled.
The configuration of the room's treasures seemed to have significance as the small lights there were would bounce of the various shiny gems and gold trinkets to hit another treasure that would reflect again and so on and so forth. But only one treasure in the room had any significance: The leathery, ancient script that sat upon its own pedestal.
Soups are but a chunky broth stew. Soups can be a system of thought, or of choice, by stirring around ideas and options. Soups can help you heal when you're sick. All kinds of soups are around to help you. But deathly soups of acids and poisons are made to kill. Be careful when you choose your soups
Seed of hope, seeds of pain, seeds of happiness or despair, seeds of knowledge, imagination, strength, courage, it doesn't matter. Life gives you many seeds. Sometimes you know the fruit they bare, other times you don't. You have to learn to live with the seeds you are given.
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writing since 2012 · 13 entries · 12 days shown up
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