Frailty of sanity

vanity to sanity

I’ll be walking on the edges of frailty,
Caressing with whispers of humanity
The world is a moment in brevity
Bury me in the grave of vanity
Resurrect me through the hand of sanity
-W.E.

How dispensable a human is.  We walk on eggshells of existence but are oblivious to the crushing weight of our being, frailty slow boiling our presence until it becomes nothing more than evaporated bubbles travelling as far away from the source of heat as possible, the inevitability of death taking us whole or one piece at a time.

Be it a little part of your heart, a part of your mind, a part of your soul,  part of your body. Sometimes God chips away at us, death particles fall off our parts.

For the selfish, they assume it an attack on their very being, their self, their self important dignified self. “How dare He”, they question him with one breath taken in, forgetting the many exhaled breaths of atheistic leaning before that.

Now, God conveniently exists for the dart board of blame.
Before that, He was just a figment of someone’s brain.
So what is it, do you believe or do you not?
Rather He chips at us not for any game,
Not for any gain,
Nothing can increase Him and nothing can decrease Him.
He tests us all, to see, will your heart remain the same?
Will your soul change?
Will your mind find excuses, mundane?
What will you do when afflicted with any of this pain?
-W.E.

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