In Search Of A Reason in the midst of humanity’s shadows, being myself as part of the humanity, the eyes of my heart and mind look for any horizon. A world with only blackness above pressing ever downward below. A mankind of the multitudes I am, praising an appearance of light. Worshiping an appearance void of light ever turning inward my sight. A seeing that is a blindness for all till first is seen through to self. What reason for mankind in this world from which I am mankind do my eyes behold thus more and more inwardly seeing? Is not confusion confusing the reasoning when reasoning is confused between the appearance of light and that which is light?
An appearance of light without light so that the darkness has become that appearance of light. And that darkness which is before my eyes is of that which I worship as my appearance of light. (?) Surrounded all around am I in this my wandering multitudes. I fix my eyes within their inward gaze to the revelation of a blind churning sea of fear and pain and misery rising and falling without course. All searching in the vastness of emptiness for a reason I am. Desperately needing to see past this nothing for anything that can come from the nothing till that desperation becomes a wave of panic crashing down on the entirety of humanity. The only thing before my eyes is the question to see a reason in something which came out from nothing which out from nothing can’t possibly come something. So from where can I ever know what is even an appearance of light? Towards what am I seeking for to see a reason?
What am I suppose to see in nothingness as to call, as from seeing, that which will be as my appearance of light as is seen? If no something can come of nothing, what something instead of nothing will these eyes see? Tossing and turning dark waters violently cast against the rocks of logic towards a fall. In Search Of A Reason in the midst of humanity’s shadows, being myself as part of the humanity, the eyes of my heart and mind look for any horizon from this world I find myself in. A world that is built on the appearance of something that is less than the something that cannot come from nothing.
So many lives built on ever sinking mire. Creating and recreating in a never ending downward spiral of endless pain, fear, sorrow and guilt. Wandering in a parched desert of self-absorption with every destination just another unsustainable mirage void of anything true or real. Lost in the belief that they are owed what they covet, and envy. Destroying without care the lives of others in a twisted effort to deny the desolation of the life that is their own. Sloshing and sinking in the mire of the blackness of the putrid stench of rotting death not yet dead.
Show me the reason for this world that I see that is made blind of a reason to be seen or to be. The eyes betrayed by the darkness of the that which is the appearance of light sees that the only reason to be seen in this world is that the reason is me. Every reason made alone.