Purpose...Reason.
Life?
There is no reason to life,
For life has no reason.
We are part of a cruel game.
We are the pawns.
We are the puppets acting out a scene.
But there is so much more to life than acting.
Life is a never ending cycle of judgement and lies.
Pathways and heartache.
Slavery and heartbreak.
Broken...
When do we class something as truly broken?
When do we choose that another life doesn't matter?
Who says we are all whole.
No one is truly whole,
Truly fixed or put back together.
We are all chipped in the end.
Dragging our box of fake smiles and masks.
Hiding.
You never truly know a person,
Til you see their mask slip..fall..
And shatter into a million tiny pieces.
Just like their sanity.
What is sane in a world full of war and hate?
Battles about religion, territory.
Race, oil, gender or eye colour.
I believe there are no choices in life.
Only misguided ghosts taught what is wrong and right.
But what truly is right?
We have the right to freedom of speech and of expression.
But society is the one with the key,
To the lock away our dreams.
To make sure we speak no evil.
So no evil is heard or seen.
We have the right to a name.
But what is a name?
It's just another label.
Certain names mean certain things and bring a story with them.
But why have stories if no one listens.
The most shy people are only that way,
Because of the impact of others.
Might that be intimidation or just high standards.
Stories are beautiful things,
With so much meaning
And so much to teach and be evaluated.
They are a way to get your point of view across.
To have a small freedom,
From the cage set around your soul.
But what is a soul?
Why is there a soul?
Who, what, when, where, why?
Questions, so many questions.
Questions build empires.
And empires build people.
But with people comes responsibility and rules.
Rules on life and how to live it.
Who is the one that writes the rules of this world?
Are we a world at all?
Or are we just the blurred figures and
Misplaced faces of a recurring nightmare.
Dreaming...
What is the reason for dreams?
If a dream is a wish your heart makes?
Then why are there nightmares?
Why do people dream of dying?
In my opinion the concept of life and death is a beautiful lie.
A fairytale for the scared.
A wish for the faithful.
But who do they put their faith in?
I know countless people.
Who have more faith in a man in the sky
Then themselves.
Prayers are wishes for the hopeless.
I envy those with hope,
I wish I could be as positive,
To Life. My Family. My Education.
But to what extent is hope for.
Education.
I both love and loathe this word.
I love to educate those with closed minds
And hypocritical tongues.
I loath to be at the receiving end,
Of their hateful education where love is labelled
And freedom is locked and chained.
What is the meaning of life ?
Tell me when you know...
Tell the children, the adults.
Tell the people with scarred arms and minds.
Tell the anxious as they sit in their solitude.
Tell the silent as their mouths stay closed,
Whilst their hearts and minds scream out.
Tell the parents that never loved and the parents who have lost.
Tell the corpses in their graves.
Tell the countless amounts of starving children.
Tell the abuse victims and the recovered.
Scream it from the rooftops.
Shout it from the heavens.
Paint it on every wall door or surface.
Oh what a world it would be...
If we had purpose...
If we learnt to love...
Oh what a world...
But sadly even without hope.
Our faith and religion.
Our masks and our recovery.
Our Laughter and Love.
Our Communities.
Our countries.
Our World.
Sadly that world we dream of...
Will never be reason...
