Man’s potion.

Wisdom is like a calming river. It springs out joy, and burns down agony.

The human experience of emotions, the city life in motion, searching for some potion.

The secrets of man. To show what is had and hide what lacks.

I had a bad week after I put too much effort, trying to entice the effortless.

I wasn’t sure which I feared most, tomorrow or yesterday.

So I left a slice from the fresh loaf today, that maybe I won’t awake with the same ambition, but I’ll still need to eat while I contemplate my next move.

I keep hoping that I’ll awake with a motive to do better than a letter. To send roses to my love, or even start a plantation.

To maybe save my nation and deserve a hero’s ovation. Anything to overcome temptation.

To yield to a salvation and take up formation. To soldier up, and not get caught up in earthly affairs.

To walk into the church house, remove the eyes from the back of my head. To seek only the face of the lord, and let my word be the sword by which I’ll live and die.



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