Things aren’t what they seem

torn

And do you know why I am so volatile?
Why like Jeckyll, I’ll come out from Hyding.
It’s because I am a tornado,
I want to draw you in.
So all that destruction, furious whirlwind,
Is a call for touch, brush against my skin.
-W.E.

Don’t settle for things as they seem,
Find beauty even amidst destruction.
Sift through the rubble of war and find tales of love in a broken toy.
Look death in the face and welcome it’s union with forever,
The only ever-after you can devote to.
Dwell in the pain of disease and illness,
Until God teaches you the beauty of healing, so heal others.
Taste what is bitter to appreciate the bounty of all things blessing your palate.
Live with less so you can find more,
And when you have less than that, ask for more, more of less, not more of more.
Love with fiery rage, so the world can appreciate the smoke of your incense you leave behind.
Singed hearts are much more of a prize to find.
Fill your house with children,
What more can we all hope for as the epitome,
Of a reflection of all the parts of who we are.
Our sub-conscience screams for egotistical validity,
Validate it with children and be done with this frivolous vanity.
It’s there in their faces you’ll find yourself.
Things are not what they seem.
-W.E.

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