The downfall of man?
The flaming sword of his ever swaying mind.
After much seeking, the key is to know when to stop.
To know when something is the truth.
There’s nothing more beyond the interminable waves of the sea.
Except the God who made all.
To rest in this simple response.
To cease chasing after more knowledge.
To stop asking Google for an answer to everything.
Then disappointedly sinking into your couch dissatisfied with the answers, because you know that’s just not it.
To obviously not expect ChatGPT to fill in the blanks that Google could not.
To be still.
And just know.
That He is the One.
That’s all there is.
That’s all that matters.
I must show up everyday.
Do my best for the great life I’ve been gifted.
For the blessings I have and for the blessings I want to have.
But I must know that resting in confidence amidst the uncertain waves of life is sometimes the best way to live.
It’s okay to not want to do, do, do.
It’s okay to not know everything.
An Illusion Bot & Sold.
// poetry
What if, it's all an illusion?
An illusory world birthing delusion;
What if, they don't want you to embody solitude?
What if, they're petrified of Growth in seclusion?
What if, it's all a faceless coin toss?
What if, there's no monstrous crime boss?
A hoax in time these momentary heads with fearful tails
Even Alexander had a fleeting short-lived horse.
What if, there's no poetry and prose?
A bloody concoction called "Curriculum of confusion"
What if, this mirage around you is living of your folly-bound demise?
What if, to live on it needs your blood in a transfusion?
I know it's all an act...
Till when shall we chase a net worth?
Remember, Alexander's neighing horse of success,
Mystery-ridden unexplained death arrived after a conqueror's mirth.
I know beyond all that illusion.
There's a Creator of Heaven and Earth.
He knit us in our mother's womb,
He spoke our fragile life at our birth.
I'm not eternally confused,
By this momentary illusion;
It's a phobia of a truther,
To romanticize with delusion.
The nucleus of my thoughts
Is the spiritual tested moral code of conscience.
Every time I have attempted to test the truth,
I've realized I'm far from omniscience!
To my splendorous Creator I have taken a knee,
If He knows everything,
Let the One who Created me,
Be the One to make or break me.
These mirrors of the crafty never end,
All the concentrated truth they shall never bend.
Beyond the mirrors the magical smoke of darkness,
The receipts of their deeds, their destruction shall never end.
