Time

If time is a continuum

Then when the world is over

Does time tick on?

Does it continue to count the seconds

Even when there is nobody?

When there is no action?

When there is nothing?

Will the void at a standstill add to the continuum?

And if the Lord is everywhere,

And he is nonperishable,

And he is,

When we meet him on that day

Will he tell us the time?

And if he does,

Will it even be comprehensible after the sun has burnt out?

Will it turn out that time itself is immeasurable from the mind of a human being?

All questions aside, one thing is clear and one can not deny this:

We are timeless.

My Mind Flows Unusually

The only way to stay sane is to go a little crazy
I found that an evil part of my brain makes me friendly
It draws people closer, and makes me build bonds
Then the bond breaks and I no longer feel so fond
Of the memories and anxieties for caring so much
I don't bruise easily, but I still feel the punch
Of the heartbreak.
But what is heartbreak past the pain?
Another way to show that my ability to love has been slain?
And the only way to revive love is to bring forth a soul
With a heart made of crystal, and maybe a tad bit of coal
But what is my goal?
Is it money, cars, gold chains, clear lanes, connections, and the sense of being protected?
Or is it being surrounded by the things that make us full to our hearts content?
Those things being loved ones, lost ones, and good memories all under the same tent.
Speaking of tents, how long have I been camping?
There is no place like home, but is my home too cramping?
Do I even have a home? Can I count this as one?
Is this life worth living? Can we just start the fun?
Or maybe this is the fun, and from here it's all downhill
And the bottom of this hill is the bill with our own demise
But if it's salvation we achieve, don't we just inherit a prize?
So if a prize is what we get at the time of demise
Can it still be called demise? Should it just be called our surprise?
Because we don't really know where we're headed, do we?
Because we're all to be judged on our worldly doings
And who's to tell us that our worldly doings are just?
Maybe we're all arrogant fools who feel we do what we must
But this where I end for now; my mind has vented enough

Is It Strength?

Is that what it is?


That resilience to keep pushing through despite the anxiety?


The way I gotta laugh a little despite being pissed off at max capacity?


That little burn in my heart that won't let me call it quits?


Or that little strike of patience when I'm at the end of my wits?


The little sun within me that shines when I'm cloudy?


The little chain that holds me back when adrenaline overcomes me?


The force that makes me accept all of my physical flaws?


That thing that lets me eventually tell myself I was wrong?


What makes my heart beat when my life is without song?


The faith that I'll make it through despite the bleeding?


That force that stops the vultures relying on my death for feeding?


Is that what lets me move on in the face of rejection?


Is that what makes me stand head high in objection?


Is that the rope that pulls me along, despite the length?


Is that what this all is? This all is strength?

Disconnected

In the age of computers and Internet connections

You can find a dusty computer lacking direction

He wasn’t connected to wide web or a local area network

He just sat on his own desk with his hard drive at work

He tried to connect to other computers

But the efforts were futile

No system type could comprehend his types of files

So many things this computer wanted to send to the other PC’s

But the world couldn’t get him, 

He had what no other drive sees

Some came pretty close to cracking his codes

And maybe they’re still trying, but as of yet He doesn’t know if they can do it

And it kills him to see these hardware connections turn to fluid

Maybe they can do it. 

Maybe they’ll communicate with him

Or maybe they’ll give up like everyone else

Leaving him disconnected.

She and the Hand

I can't tell if she won't tell


'Cause she couldn't tell, shouldn't tell, or just wouldn't tell


Even if it'd help her


She could go for shelter


But she's too bottled up


To shatter the walls


And make her horizons expand


Hope is far from given up


But the story expands


She's troubled in that bottle


There's a problem brewing within


And it's pretty hard to settle


When one reaches their hand in


To get her out those confines


She sends that hand back empty


And says what goes in won't go outside


And the hand knows it's a nuisance


Because in it keeps reaching


And at times to pull her out


It resorts to beseeching


Because the hand in a nagger that can't respect it's limits


And when it cares for something, the hand attempts to be coherent


So she can shoo the hand within that bottle as the day's spent


Time isn't of the essence; the hand is really patient.

Split-Minded Arguments

These people don't care about us

They only scan our content

And find out what applies to them

Then speak as if we're in a convent

They're footsteps are all over us

When will you get it in our head?

All these "friends" we call our friends 

Are with us to meet all their ends.

So if they're there to meet their ends,

Let's collect our dividends.

Our services are not for free

We halt production to boost theirs

And when we're down, they let us be

But when their down, we're kissing theirs.

So wake up man, before you start to harm me

Take what you call a "friendship" and leave it at the Salvation Army

On the contrary, I feel they do

They care about us more than you

They pushed us up when we were falling

Instead of helping them help us,

You made it hard with all your bawling

All you do is make a fuss

So what if things aren't always peachy?

So what if they call us for favors in the end?

Who else were they to call for?

Isn't that why you call a friend?

Maybe they don't latch for our services.

Maybe those're indirect benefits

Maybe you say that's the way it is,

'Cause you can't grasp the beauty of it.

So don't screw this up for the both of us

'Cause for real man, I've had enough of it.