The idea around life is time is a small minute, it can go by in hours and hours may be lost in minutes. We need to find the passion to live, perfect, but sometimes that just is not possible. There are things that block the passage to you breath, that clips your wings and you battle to get the flow of your souring soul back on track.
I am merely a soul that lived one too many lives and the lessons sometimes complex, painful, senseless. But live will learn and we are not allowed to wonder endless in your own sorrow it will surely eat you from the inside out.
I am you, they might not think we are one but we are a being of one and it fills this world with endless stories. Can we be so naïve, while you read this you can understand us, do you think you can get to the inside of this, and be part of nothing. I try to understand the rooms that lead nowhere to read the book without words. We are souls that need to teach each other compassion, love, lust, patience, endurance, ampathy, sympathy, hate, rage, pain. But what do we do get caught up in our own pain, and forget we can teach someone else the joy of a smile. The pleasure of passion. The feeling of rain.
Another scribbling I call my own.
Die tyd drup van die ure af
Genot slegs tydelik hier
Wie is jy wat na my smag
Ek slegs ‘n siel sonder sier
Geniet jou minute my ure se wag
Vloeiend deur die jare
Sypel my binne dat ek ook klaar kan vloei
Die ure in die uurglas al minute verby
Hoe weet hul om aan te vloei sonder passie
Wat is die fors wat hul dryf na raaseny
Al vloeiend my kanse uurliks al verby
Al druppend, drukkend, indringend
Teen my ingewande vas
Ruk my siel
Ruk my ligaam
Ruk als van my tot waar jy kan
Stoot my geloof weer terug
Stamp, stamp,stamp teen my harde hart
Meer genot as wat ek kan vat
Rukkend, druppend nader aan
Plesier hier indringend
Ruk, druk, stoot, meer
Kan die liefde bly?
Was hy ooit hier
Ek slegs ‘n grot van passie
Ek slegs plesier