Ever prayed for a sign
For God to prove his alive
I have, that's when someone
Unexpected came back into my life
Wouldn't that make you think
Wouldn't that make you wonder
And now I've got a lot
I need to say to you
Gonna keep it simple
Gonna keep it short
Hope you don't mind
here are my thoughts

Dear God
We need to talk
You keep taking
The best of us
And tearing us down
Dear God
We need to talk
You keep knocking
The best of us
Straight to the floor
Why do you keep doing this
Don't want to see any more

Oh my lord
Are you listening now
Do you really have a plan
Or are you just watching
The world like a play
Or is this life
just some kind of game
Because I'm looking for answers
Need to change the world
If you're all powerful
I've got something to say

Dear God
We need to talk
You keep taking
The best of us
And tearing us down
Dear God
We need to talk
You keep knocking
The best of us
Straight to the floor
Why do you keep doing this
Don't want to see any more

I've got a vision in mind
Oh Lord tell me
Have you seen a future
I want to see through my eyes
Come on, you sent me a sign
Now just give me
A little more of your time
I'm looking for answers
To all of these questions
Oh Lord, can you hear me?
Tell me why I need to know
Where am I meant to go

Dear God
We need to talk
You keep taking
The best of us
And tearing us down
Dear God
We need to talk
You keep knocking
The best of us
Straight to the floor
Why do you keep doing this
Don't want to see any more

©2017 Written By Benji James

I was messing around with words,
For people once messed with my mind.
Words carve truth
And sometimes are part of foul play.
Sometimes words are used in games,
Sometimes words carry wisdom
In disguise.
And all in all, words are human
They are flawed and they are metaphors.

I had a question
Of all the questions I have.
I baked it into simple bricks
To build symbolic sculptures with it.
But what use is a question
If it in itself is indecipherable,
Answers need a structured path to unwind.
I was looking for an answer
But I wasn't expecting one.
I feel most questions
Are there
Because they have indeed
No answers after all.

These are our constructed truths,
I used to say
When he used to accuse me of lying.
I always have a dark, dark humor.
But I have the luck
To meet bright people too.

I believed there could only be truth,
In absence of which there is a lie.
But the world isn't black and white,
White itself is of several colors
That serves together.
So who was I to question
The ways of the world?

Words from different mouths
Different they sound,
And different answers they form.
A house of cards
We live in,
Too light to sustain,
And yet some remain for days.
A blow would end them
And yet we don't.
We could build a whole world of it
And someone might as well try.
We deal with a deck of cards he said.

There is this big flaw
You must have heard.
This rebellion of bumblebees
Who fought over physics to fly.
Are nature's laws that sustain us
A lie too?
We deal with an illusion they said.

One card by itself can be torn to bits,
But cards appear too strong
When they build a sturdy skeleton
On their own.
Which one is the illusion
    -the one card that acts weak
     Or those in a heap, strong?
On behalf of the bees flying,
Of people revived after death,
Or people who survived poison
Or saved by the devil,
I have to ask,
If everything is indeed an illusion?
What exactly are we dealing with?

Then he came with the most important question of all
For what shall
We do with the answers,
What good does a truth do?

I don't have enough answers
It seems only questions.
Maybe in them hides answers
But maybe it does not matter
                                                   After all.
What did you pick?

(Questions exist because
There are no answers
                                      Yet?)

It tickles when my hair brushes my neck
Sending shivers down my spine
To keep me in line and I forget
What the sound of my voice is when all I can hear
Is the echo of my thoughts
And I forgot to tell you about the day
That I lost my way and how
You helped me find it.
Sometimes I wish I were a bird
With fragile wings and a song to sing
Each morning, to sound the alarms of
Spring and make it known that I am in fact alive.
I have a tongue that cuts through lies
A blade honed by truth
But it's no use when my words fall
On deaf ears and my smile is met by
Only fear of reality.
It is by this name that I walk the earth
Desperately trying and crying out for the souls
Of the forgotten sons and daughters that
Have no names only graves and stones
Washed clean of an identity by the rain and the
Pain of years that have passed.
In a shell of a soldier I pick up the guise
Of a man on crusade for his faith in what once
Was a trance and now I can
Stop pretending that I have the answers
Before I even know the question.

Each mind is situated on  the spectrum of belief and reality.
Both ends suffer in their search for the truth.
The man who spends his life navigating the spiritual realm.
He attempts to find the greater purpose for everything.
Every blade of grass, each eroded stone a symbol of something bigger.
The nuances of life analysed and expanded upon to their very limit.
Given meaning in the name of God or the foreshadowing omen of an individual.

The man who traverses reality, grounded in science and logistics.
His mind filled with hypotheses.
Observing outcomes to explain the inexplicable.
He fits his grass and stones into the puzzle of a greater system.
In doing so he is God and the purpose for all things he assigns.

Both men strive to be the voice heard by the masses.
Their findings recorded, read, believed.
In the end does it truly matter.
Two lives spent.
Kneeling, yearning for some kind of affirmation that their time was spent correctly.
That they added anything to the greater scheme.
Pages upon pages filled with every detail in a grain of sand.
The end comes, the ink runs, the pages wither to dust, knowledge lost, purpose forgotten.
The world keeps turning.

Some lack the intelligence to question.
Successfully saturated in meaningless pleasure.
Content with the everyday.
Is the answer found in ignorance?
In Bliss?
No, it is only constant escape.
A blindfold of euphoria.
The alpha enjoys life but never feels the need to understand fully.

In this new age there are those.
Those who bestow false titles on themselves.
Titles to distract for what they deem is personal happiness.

Happiness is a chemical distraction.
The avoidance of happiness lays bare the foundations of life.
Depression broadens the mind but overwhelms the individual.
Substance expands the mind.
New thoughts, new processes.
The key is not found in fungi.
Through it, the introduction to the question is bestowed.

Life, the most widespread joke without a punchline.
We throw ourselves into the playground for amusement, some way to pass the endless stream of time.
We have the power to do many terrible great things but not the will to perform.
We drown in our misunderstanding and want for companionship.
No one wants to meet what comes next alone.
We surround ourselves with the others but are they real or just figments of the great simulation.
Which ones are REAL?
What does it all mean?
We ask repeatedly and distract from the oncoming dread by soaking our brains in pleasure and petty tasks.
When there is none to be found we suffer in nothingness.
Crave the meaning of it all, but fear the truth.
Map the endless universe for an answer but only so far is the reach of a crafted lens.
Sometimes we think we see the solution in the sparkle of another's eyes but love.
Love is but another falsity.
Eventually everything fades, even one's biological function for passion.
Whatever we are, we were meant to seek the answer.
If there is none, we suffer internally eternally.
This is Hell!
What comes next is endless slumber, trapped in the pod of another plain of existence.
Until we dare to amuse ourselves again.
Memory wiped.
The experiment.
The thrill.
The punchline revealed!

i wanted to learn your thoughts. like an astrologer studying the stars. seeking answers in the mystic. the unknown. to observe in pure adoration. i wanted to tattoo my name across your skin. a mark with a meaning. and memory. but you are tattoo shy. and you do not believe in the power of the universe. you do not commit. and so, i left. full of too many unanswered prayers. wishes gone un-granted. i left. maybe you were not supposed to be my next adventure.