Currently Listening Hear 'n Aid By Various Artists see related

Our final lines have been spoken

The last act played out

We both did quite well

Our parts performed perfectly

The reviews will be less than friendly

But only because the critics didn’t like the end

You and I know

It ended just as it should

The final scene played out

Just as the playwright scripted

No poisoned cup

No long-winded death

Just the parting of ways

Exit: stage left

Now we will each move on

To better plays and shows

New audiences and casts

More comedies and tragedies

I shall watch from the balcony

As you walk along the sea

Wishing you the finest supporting role

And all the best in life

No lines have been forgotten

We each remembered the script

The curtain fell on cue

I would give you a rose (and a kiss)

As a parting gift

But these words will have to do.

Currently Listening Exposition By Wax on Radio see related

My lines may have been forgotten,

But I ad-libbed quite well

(If I may say so).

Words put into my mouth by the Author.

I still play the fool,

But I shall change roles soon.

You, the Queen,

Looked upon me

From your balcony in the heavens

With your angelic eyes.

I may have forgotten my lines,

But I do not hesitate.

The audience still watches,

Still curious.

But they hold their peace

Finally.

Their hands have dropped the pencils;

They seem to enjoy this act.

This story

Of you and I

Is being written

As we move about the stage.

The Playwright knows,

He seems to be revealing more with time.

The act has begun,

Let us make of it what we will.

You stand upon your balcony,

And I shall rise up with wings

As an eagle,

And I will stand at your side.

Currently Listening Hope By Swallow the Sun see related

The Actor Who Forgot His Lines

Let us play out this drama

Pawns to the pen of the Author

The curtain rose ages ago,

it will not drop for years to come.

Perhaps it was I,

Me who played the fool.

I lived the role to be sure.

You, the Queen,

spotless as ever,

more than lived the role

you became the part.

I saw you upon the balcony,

But I hesitated,

My line forgotten.

The audience watches

With curiosity.

They think they know the play

better than we.

They pencil in thier own lines.

Let them find another stage.

This story

Of you and I,

can only be written

by ourselves.

We each hold a pen

What will we write?

The Playwright knows

He will reveal to us in time.

Meanwhile,

Let us try the act again,

perhaps another scene?

If not,

you will stand upon the shore

And I shall watch you

From atop a mountain,

Wishing I could fly.

Currently Listening War All the Time By Thursday see related

Explanations by way of following the brush

Well, I try to calm myself down before I write anything. This reduces the chances of regrettable things being written. I don’t know how good of a job I’m going to do at this point. So much as happened. Too much. Slowly, one by one, things have been taken away from me. Things that I hold dear. Be they material things, or people, or abstractions, feelings. I don’t understand it. I try to search for reasons, acting like my own Zophar. I find things, but not many, and not grievous. Is all this because I have turned my back on God? I pray it isn’t so. I’ve sought God so much more in these past few days and weeks. All I have now is my health. Even that seems to be slipping. I thought I could see my future, but now it is nothing but a blur. I have no idea what lies ahead. The only thing I know for certain is that I will die at some point. Even then, I don’t know when. It could be minutes from now, or years, or decades. Nothing is certain. All is vanity and grasping for the wind. Am I a fool for trying to understand my own life? All the purposes and plans that intertwine within my existence? Am I that important?

I’ve been finding myself more and more apathetic, I really don’t care what other people say or think about me. Why am I writing this? Perhaps to keep people from wondering who I am. But why should they know? Why do you have to know what’s going on in my life? Do you care that much? In my experience, it’s not caring that drives our curiosity, it is the lust for information, the lust for gossip. I don’t know. Maybe. If you’re reading this because you care about me, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I don’t deserve a friend like you.

Concerning Leah, I want everyone to know that I do not blame her at all. I hold no grudge or hatred. She has followed her heart, feelings, and faith. I cannot ask for more. She is happy, and that’s what’s important to me. If anyone slanders her, or tries to blame her, you’ll have me to answer to. I’m not angry at her. I’m angry at those who have made this whole ordeal harder on her than it’s already been. Myself included. I can only blame myself.

This is not a note of resignation. I will still pursue wholeheartedly what God has put in front of me. I may stumble sometimes, but I’m human, and I know that there will be Someone who will pick me up. Do not expect more of me. If I don’t live up to your expectations, tough. You’re not my god. The One who saved me is. He’s the only one who has a say in what happens in my life.

I just wish He’d let me in on what’s going on.

“Should not the multitude of words be answered? and should a man full of talk be justified?

Should thy lies make men hold their peace? and when thou mockest, shall no man make thee ashamed?

For thou hast said, My doctrine [is] pure, and I am clean in thine eyes.

But oh that God would speak, and open his lips against thee;

And that he would shew thee the secrets of wisdom, that [they are] double to that which is! Know therefore that God exacteth of thee [less] than thine iniquity [deserveth].

Canst thou by searching find out God? canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection?

[It is] as high as heaven; what canst thou do? deeper than hell; what canst thou know?

The measure thereof [is] longer than the earth, and broader than the sea.

If he cut off, and shut up, or gather together, then who can hinder him?

For he knoweth vain men: he seeth wickedness also; will he not then consider [it]?

For vain man would be wise, though man be born [like] a wild ass's colt.

If thou prepare thine heart, and stretch out thine hands toward him;

If iniquity [be] in thine hand, put it far away, and let not wickedness dwell in thy tabernacles.

For then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot; yea, thou shalt be stedfast, and shalt not fear:

Because thou shalt forget [thy] misery, [and] remember [it] as waters [that] pass away:

And [thine] age shall be clearer than the noonday; thou shalt shine forth, thou shalt be as the morning.

And thou shalt be secure, because there is hope; yea, thou shalt dig [about thee, and] thou shalt take thy rest in safety.

Also thou shalt lie down, and none shall make [thee] afraid; yea, many shall make suit unto thee.

But the eyes of the wicked shall fail, and they shall not escape, and their hope [shall be as] the giving up of the ghost.”

Job Chapter 11