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Missionary
01/21/2004 @ 9:27pm
By:
achingheart

Love.
Made to be forever.
Made to be a hopeful feeling.
Made to be a weapon against only one thing,
Hate.
~
Love was not made to be used.
We needn't not dispose of it.
We utilize it.
We pass it on.
We keep it alive!
~
I have looked into the past, present, and future.
In the past, I have seen the source fault.
In the present, I see the solution.
In the future, I see the perfect dream.
The problem, getting to sleep, to dream...
~
Hate keeps us awake.
Hate keeps us blind.
Everyone tries to prove each generation wrong.
The problem is, why?
Must we blindfold each generation?
~
I see the faults of the past.
I have found a system.
yet, it’s incomplete.
I found my FINAL LOVE.
How can I dream?
~
I want to free them all so badly...
Why do I feel this way?
My mission seems so foolish, yet so right.
I want to stop the pain.
I want to free HATE.
~
I love her so much.
I love THEM so much.
Will she stay, or will she go?
Will THEY stay, or will they go?
I can't let it happen.
~
Death is not the answer.
Killing is not the answer.
Hate is not the answer.
What is the answer?
Love?
~
That word is to be criticized...
That word is to be made fun of...
That word is to be used...
That word is tortured!
What can I do?
~
Listen to this word...
Love...
Now engulf yourself in that kind of flame.
What do you feel my friends?
Pain or Pleasure?
~
How can we stop the hate?
Should we not love more?
No matter how much reality there is...
Shouldn't we?
I know I do.
~
Reality is merely the cloth over our eyes
Love is the atmosphere that our lungs are blocked from
Hate is the gas inside the bag that we are infinitely breathing from
Every now and then the bag wears down from the lovely air...
Before the bag breaks though...We are destroyed by the fumes.
~
I am getting closer to knowing why I am here.
I am getting closer to my purpose.
I am growing, my bag wearing down...
I am still fully alive.
I want that atmospheric perfume.
~
The one that keeps me on my feet knows who she is.
I fear she will never understand.
I fear she will be taken by the fumes.
I fear she will not stay with me for OUR promised time.
I fear she thinks of me as ANOTHER person...Am I?
~
Who will answer my questions?
Who will assist me?
Who will go through this LIFE with me?
Who thinks the same?
Does...she?
~
Who is the SHE?
Who is my FINAL LOVE?
The one I am with seems to be reality's last chance.
Is she?
I will see.
~
I will complete what I am here for.
I will free HATE.
I will LOVE all.
I will burn the blindfolds.
I will purify the gas.
~
Love is not dead.
Love still exsists.
Love may be used.
But, it's still pulsing.
It will be revived.

Disclaimer: This poem is by Mark Williams. All rights are reserved through
Mark Williams.
 
Copyright © achingheart, All Rights Reserved


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