- Books, Literature, and Writing
Rhymes without Reason
As luck would have it,
some folks just don't believe in it.
Divine intervention my foot,
some folks just don't give a hoot.
Angels are my guiding light alright,
but are they in your sight so bright?
Laws of physics be damned I'd say,
let them tug at my sleeves, any day.
Creation must have been the rule,
as concepts go it is so, so cool.
But the Big Bang and quantum mechanic,
made evolution so, much more exotic.
This our Age of Celebrity has so many icons,
running rampant accross golden horizons.
Un-stoicism is the new chic of the gilded times,
that never seem to run out of sordid crimes.
Leading from behind is not the way to shake,
neither is it the audacious road to take.
Seeking other people's lives to completely eviscerate,
through self-made laws that are easy to promulgate.
Truth be told, actions have consequences,
and when viewed through empirical evidences,
Can not but lead even the most jaded among us,
to say, yes oh yes, these would really cause a fuss.
For some, going through a death-bed conversion.
could be tantamount to a slow motion crucifixion.
But when the prize is heavenly glorious,
could they still reject it as something spurious?
Homo Sapiens reduced to a mere object,
then devalued as a simple subject,
By atheism's rabid and vapid conjecture,
that the soul is truly not in his nature.
Creativity is man's share of God's divinity,
but vanity might make unreachable this destiny.
Wouldn't it be greatly audacious for him to say,
I'm laying down and leaving my ego to decay.
Someone once said, man's life could be so boring,
unless and until his daily grind becomes scorching.
He still could stay on top of nature's totem pole,
but only if he does not slide into a souless hole.
What is so perplexing about life's itinerant sway
if as some say, it started in such a random way.
With neither meaning nor purpose, what a pity.
thus considered a supreme exercise in futility.
The oil and water, that is religion and science,
could never mix into one perceptual conscience.
But why not, when their language are not so distant,
and their longing for answers ever so constant.
So you say, God is just a man made concept,
a product of the brain's bio-chemical precept.
What machine dare construct such a perplexity?,
of course, one that has been wired for complexity.
You are my destiny or so I convincingly thought,
Then perhaps you could tell me what I actually sought.
A prize so distant and obscure you made me quiver,
when I realized you are also cold, it made me shiver.