Mercuria: I'm back, kiddies. And I think I just got inspired. FEAR, MORTALS!
Okay, the explanation for this would be:
1. I am not a Christian.
2. I never will be, although I may have a religion at a later point in my life.
3. I write in the Bible section anyway.
4. This is becauseI feel that this is the best place to post theological contemplation, and since I am fascinated by religion, this is where you'll be hearing about my musings on the divine.
*bow, exeunt*
************
If I were to
you were to
we were to
what?
That's the beauty of it:
the "what" is your own
There's no need to stop
and say
"May I think?"
Run if you feel the wind
pulling on your hair
in that streamlined way
icy warm hot cold fingers
dancing all over
as the world blurs
Paint if you love it
creating a concert of silence
Colors that swirl in their stillness
It's lovely
and yours
Isn't it amazing?
But what I don't understand
is when it is said
"Nothing I do
is done through me"
A twisted parody of a children's game
"Father may I sing this song?"
"Father may I use my senses?"
"Father may I exist if you please?"
If it is true
that we were given the grace
to be possessed of many talents
why then must we beg for them?
Why must we be worthless?
Why must we grovel
when what we were given
was given free?
I will never apologize for my abilities
I bear them as shining banners
And my creations
were brought into being by me
I am their mistress
They are what I made them
I am not what they are made to be
To what do I owe this honor?
Not you
not an invisible omnipresence
but me
myself
and I
************
Mercuria: Thank you, that is all. Reviews appreciated!
Okay, the explanation for this would be:
1. I am not a Christian.
2. I never will be, although I may have a religion at a later point in my life.
3. I write in the Bible section anyway.
4. This is becauseI feel that this is the best place to post theological contemplation, and since I am fascinated by religion, this is where you'll be hearing about my musings on the divine.
*bow, exeunt*
************
If I were to
you were to
we were to
what?
That's the beauty of it:
the "what" is your own
There's no need to stop
and say
"May I think?"
Run if you feel the wind
pulling on your hair
in that streamlined way
icy warm hot cold fingers
dancing all over
as the world blurs
Paint if you love it
creating a concert of silence
Colors that swirl in their stillness
It's lovely
and yours
Isn't it amazing?
But what I don't understand
is when it is said
"Nothing I do
is done through me"
A twisted parody of a children's game
"Father may I sing this song?"
"Father may I use my senses?"
"Father may I exist if you please?"
If it is true
that we were given the grace
to be possessed of many talents
why then must we beg for them?
Why must we be worthless?
Why must we grovel
when what we were given
was given free?
I will never apologize for my abilities
I bear them as shining banners
And my creations
were brought into being by me
I am their mistress
They are what I made them
I am not what they are made to be
To what do I owe this honor?
Not you
not an invisible omnipresence
but me
myself
and I
************
Mercuria: Thank you, that is all. Reviews appreciated!