Is it divine, is it inspired, what is the Bible? A book written by stodgy old men long past their prime? Is it a fantasy the someone dreamed up to explain the unexplained?  Some say it is not real, others say it is just embellished history. In the truth of things it is a record of things that can and cannot be explained. The history of men and women who failed but found grace and were forgiven. The tales of imperfection that were left to give us guidance. A tome of hope and inspiration to any who are willing to believe. A book of logic and reason with wisdom of the failures of others. It is a book but many things in one, so what is the Bible to you?

Oh the roads I could have traveled and the things I could have done. What wonders I could have seen following the setting sun. How many women I could have known and what pleasures untold I could have enjoyed. The tales I would have been able to tell to any who would read about them. Yet in a moment, I found my heart captured by true love. All of the wild adventures melted away and the sun set without me to follow it. Under a bright moon surrounded by a thousand stars to bear witness, that is when I said yes to love and yes to spending my life with you.

A broken *** shattered and scattered into pieces that are strewn everywhere. Oil and water that cannot mix together and will not coexist. So are the ideologies of humanity, the things we think are important to us. That which we feel we must scream at another in order to get them to understand in truth is of little consequence. If one way is right and another wrong, then let them exist side by side and see which bears the fruit of success. If we cannot agree on even existence with tolerance, then we are a house divided and to null effect for we shall both come to nothing and fail in the end.

The crowds gathered around the hill where three men were hanged on a the cross. Two were paying for what they had done and one was not worthy of death, yet he was sentenced anyway. As the hung between two sinners, and innocent blood was shed, a list was blotted out by the Crimson stain. Between heaven and earth in anguish a price was paid and on that rugged tree sin was crossed out for all who would believe.

Standing in the street face to face with my brother, another person who I did not know. Holding the upper hand with my finger on the trigger. Trying to make it the only way I know, the split second made the difference for the rest of my life. One movement and then pop, the sound of thunder and lightning issuing from my clenched fist, holding taught around the grip of the gun. Like a slow motion sliver streak, the bullet hit it's mark. Tearing into the person who under the skin is my human brother. Down he fell into the gutter, another lost soul claimed as a victim of the drug trade. I hesitated for a moment, then grabbed what was mine and ran. Never looking back, only seeing the thing on T.V. ! Again and again it was played out until it became surreal. Trembling I sat in the dark like a rat trapped in a cage. The images of the look on his face frozen in my mind. The grainy images of the surveillance camera did not tell the whole tale. Details were left out so that the story that they wanted to tell could be written. A split second later and the tables would have been turned, my brother who was desperate had a gun too. If he had been quicker, then I would have been laying in the street. With no clues as to who did the deed, all they can say is it is another tragedy. What they do not know is who did this terrible thing. What they cannot realize is that all things have changed. A gun a split second and one shot changed it all for me and for the guy that is my brother under skin, who wanted to do to me what I had to do to him.

Hearts torn into pieces and emotions scattered asunder. The path lays strewn with shattered dreams. Crystal chandeliers light the way to glamor and fame, only to leave you cold from the light that is cast but that gives no warmth. Bits of people scream from the sides of the path that is filled with holes and sharp stones. Lives that were ripped to shreds when they fell apart on the way to the star of glory lay all around as the voices repeat the same thing. Beware of lofty dreams and take care for your heart. Love is a luxury and friendship is a rare commodity that is often traded for perceived happiness and worldly things. So is the way of life in the land of dreams, Hollywood where all that glitters is not gold and you are just one step away from losing it all.

You give me distant gazes as though you are looking through me. When I talk in a certain way you don't laugh like you used to. Our special moments seem like we are going through the motions. Just as the seasons change so have you changed to me. More and more you find ways to not see me and when you do it is as if you are not there. I must accept that your heart is gone but your body is still here, so I will have to learn to just let you go.