Philosopher's Pen

Love is strong Yet it makes us weak Love is our maker Yet love often looks like our undoing Love never tires because it sheds cleansing blood Love is forgiveness That is why man finds it hard to love Love is enduring  That is why it is eternal Love is Grace Love is the power of God Love is not an emotion It is the deep truth of just and right Love is not passion But it is a deep set purpose Love is not a feeling But the agenda of life Love saves It never condems He who loves his neighbor as himself Loves God Because he has found God

The sun is still bright The cloud is still blue Life is just the usual husstle and bustle Averagely I am successful Deep inside I want to give up I want to give up living but death is no better deal I want to give up work but laying about offers no comfort I want to give up looking into your eyes But being alone is not a sweet company either I want to tell my friends that I am not okay But not being okay is not okay so I have to be okay anyway I want to give up being okay and cry but I can't I want to give up but I can't  Not because I don't want to give up but because I am scared of what it offers Feeling trapped between norm and escape I want to give up but I cant I want to run away from my self but I can't I look at who I wish to be That is my only bonfire amid this pain I want to give up But deep inside I know I can't give up

I was told to write a one word story I was told it should hold pain and joy in it The fangs of hope and dissapointment should be embedded on it That it should be a symbol of what's to come but still a reminder of our past I was told to let it speak but never to have a voice So I settled for 'love' as my choice I chose to poke the heart Of its feelings  I drew it's image up on my wall And it sure told a tale of happy endings It for sure held mixed feelings up its ink It marked beginnings Sometimes it had faded lights at its brink Flickers of a future and memories that persuaded a thought I chose love for it made me write this without a whisper No voice,no echo Just a guilt between pen and paper

I have spoken to the sky I have spoken to the land and even the waters Most importantly I have spoken to my mind about COVID19 Nothing is clear yet from my communication and a lot seems to be privileged No one wants to tell you that they got or have no answer That is fine, someone somewhere knows the truth Whether the truth is that they have got or they have no answer But I will tell you the answers from my mind This brat COVID 19 did not woo the world for a fling This brat is fucking everything and having fun, seemingly not in a rush He will be here for a while like ten, twenty, thirty or forty years who knows Some say mother nature let him loose to tell us to have some control That I am not sure, but I am sure father time never minds being occupied by his actions He is most often a passive observer He simply holds the clock and keeps the journal We will hear of it as His Story, starting from once upon a time Chronicles and lessons for the future To be clinically precise,

How could you live if there was no heaven to reward you Who could you be if there were no hell to punish you What could you do if God gave you one life to live and have it all Would you pray to Him Would you love your neighbor Would you judge people calling them good or evil Would you aspire to be good if there would be no reward for it in this or after life Deep down that is who you are in your depth That is who God shapes Because that is who gives heaven and hell a purpose