I hold the pen and close my eyes, makes my heart open his book in pain!
Listen to that melody calling for that melody, makes all lines shake in fear!
Space and every element surrounding that space lead to hold my trembled heart to fade in illusion!
Questioning my reasons....
Questioning the versions of me I became through my journey!
Questioning the purpose I have every now and then!
Questioning should I go further than this place I reached!
The sun hiding behind those shy clouds trying to keep the light of the new road from being seen!
What is behind that Road!...

Time moved through me
forgetting to carry me
with her.

And I waited.

Like the businessman
at Flinders Street Station
- stagnant -
while the world passed him by,
and time moved through him,
in fast motion;
forgetting to whisper past
his cheek
and sweep the petals
from his eyes.

For he carries a garden inside,
but all gardens
need time.

When you make a wish
what is your hearts’ desire?
What do you tell yourself
so you can survive another day?
The pain is so unbearable
it seems to never end
Do you ever wonder
why you were given this struggle?
Why is this your path to endure
The mind is full and blank
all at once,
     Do you know what kind of havoc that reeks?
A sharp, emptiness in your soul
to relive the void that you serve no real purpose
other than to occupy a space.
Do you know your worth?
Do you even understand what that means?
This never ending cycle
   Wake up
      Serve
        Survive
          No rest
              Repeat
Watching life from a far
Standing still, in what seems like forever
Glory days are not behind you
Yet, they do not seem ahead of you either
    Forgotten
      Lost
Scribbled off the milk carton
Missing:
  your place in this mere existence
Tears fall like flooding rains on the inside
a halfhearted smile
for all the world’s a stage...

Could it be, that the ineffectiveness
of our prayers are directly linked to
the poor motivations… of our hearts?
Are we in pursuit of genuine holiness

and a relationship, with The One, Who
made the Heavens and the Earth? Can we
overcome ourselves and rise up as His
Children? Our Faith and Salvation, do

not relate to our personal actions; we
are saved by His Grace alone; the good
works, we perform, are an outward sign
of our love for Him. When will we see,

that we’re nothing… without Him? When
we strive, to understand, the truest
purpose of prayer, our spiritual eyes
are gradually opened before Him; then

we can see… our identity in Christ!

the shadows the sun cast when it rises,
way beyond down
there I am

stuck as a soul can be on a plane not meant for the unsure,
I grab onto other souls who know what to do with their existence,
and ask, is this for me too?

no, no
it doesn't feel right
breathing here doesn't feel right
every breath feels forced, just to survive, because i need to.
but they breathe because they've found it

the purpose of their souls,


I think mine was lost.

People playing out time.
They work all day
Doing mundane jobs.
Passively watch the telly
And play on their mobile phones.
Week in week out:
Same routine,
With the odd break.

So what is The Purpose
Of all this?
We have our struggles and strifes,
Our glorious wins –
All forgotten once we go.
Generation follows generation,
Each an essay
At the game of Life.
So I ask again,
What is The Purpose?
I've asked this most of my life.

All I can say,
Scratching my head,
Is that we are here just
To Appreciate
The Beauty
Of our Universe,
This World we call “Earth”
And all that Mother Nature
Creates.

We must meditate on this
And make more music.
Listen to our Muses
Then sing, paint, write, sculpt
Or whatever Art
We care
To flow
From our souls.
Amen.

Paul Butters

© PB 1\4\2018.