Who are you?
Who are you?
My God,
Who are you?

Are your silent words
The only thing I hear?

Why did you make man out of clay?
If you knew that somewhere, someday,
They would become evil?
They would become evil?

Why did you give man such free will?
If you knew that our hearts would fill,
Their ownselves with evil?
Their ownselves with evil?

And if you have pow'r, why not fight?
If you knew they'd bend by the light?
The dark demonic evil?
The dark demonic evil?

Who are you?
Who are you?
My God,
Who are you?

Are your silent words
The only thing I hear?

you're lost in your own world
is that where you'd rather be?
step out for a moment
come walk with me

a hostage of your own thoughts
why don't you let them be?
think what I think for a moment
let go, breathe free

you won't look me in the eyes
see what I want you to see
stop for a moment and look
there's just you and me

I don't know where you're heading
you say it's destiny
slow down a bit for love
come walk with me

We always wonder why God allows us to go through certain things.
Like a health issue, losing our job or getting our heart broken by a man or woman we loved.
The pain from these different situations will make you want to cave.
Feel like you're losing your mind.
Constantly plaguing it with "whys".
Have you in tears and keeping you up many late nights.

It just always seems so unfair.
You're a good person but are always filled with such great hopelessness and despair.
Asking yourself "Does God notice my burdens? Does He really care?"
You're never suppose to question God but sometimes you wish you could have a face to face meeting so you can understand Him more clearly.
They say everything happens for a reason.
And you always get what's meant for you in due season.
Still when you're reeling in pain it's tough to keep a positive mentality.
It's easier to just curl up in a ball and indulge in a self pity party.

But despite your flesh hurting, your spirit knows there's a purpose.
A purpose that is all a part of God's plan.
For He knows exactly how much we can bear.
And will never exceed our strength's capacity nor our inner will's limit to keep going despite adversities.
Sometimes God allows certain situations to occur to help mold us into what we're destined to be.
Every tear, hurt, pain and worry all serve their purpose to help towards fulfilling our destiny.
So many successful people always say certain pains and setbacks helped propel them to who they are today.  
This is when the saying "everything happens for a reason" comes back into play.  

God makes no mistakes.
He is the key to our lives being fruitful.
Supplying us daily with favor, mercy and grace.
So though we may be hurting and feel like we're at our end.
We must continue to fight on, have faith and believe.
There's purpose in our pain that God is going to manifest for us individually to see; how it all was necessary to become what He created each one of us to be.

Only in a democracy
do the fire hydrants
and car tires
elect the dogs
that **** all over them.

Lead us, Evolution, lead us
Up the future's endless stair;
Chop us, change us, **** us, **** us.
For stagnation is despair:
Groping, guessing, yet progressing,
Lead us nobody knows where.

Wrong or justice, joy or sorrow,
In the present what are they
while there's always jam-tomorrow,
While we tread the onward way?
Never knowing where we're going,
We can never go astray.

To whatever variation
Our posterity may turn
Hairy, squashy, or crustacean,
Bulbous-eyed or square of stern,
Tusked or toothless, mild or ruthless,
Towards that unknown god we yearn.

Ask not if it's god or devil,
Brethren, lest your words imply
Static norms of good and evil
(As in Plato) throned on high;
Such scholastic, inelastic,
Abstract yardsticks we deny.

Far too long have sages vainly
Glossed great Nature's simple text;
He who runs can read it plainly,
'Goodness = what comes next.'
By evolving, Life is solving
All the questions we perplexed.

Oh then! Value means survival-
Value. If our progeny
Spreads and spawns and licks each rival,
That will prove its deity
(Far from pleasant, by our present,
Standards, though it may well be).

I had told her about my pin badges -
It was that kind of intimacy.

I had written poems about her -
It was that kind of intimacy.

She returns with another present,
In fact, more than one,
Despite being a woman scorned -
It was that kind of intimacy.

One, a postcard, to return my gesture,
A memory we shared together -
It was that kind of intimacy.

Two, a pin, she travelled to find,
Searching to fix something that
Was never broken.
To her, this was a failure,
To me, it was
Our kind of intimacy.

And three, a notebook,
Because she knows what I love,
And that words lie deep inside of me,
Screaming to come out.

I write this to her to apologise
For being a fool, and to thank her
For her undying encouragement
And her endless inspiration
And her kind, warm words -
A beautiful friendship married
By the endless embers of
Written words -
Our kind of intimacy.