there is but... nothing.

w/o Him

there is

but...

nothing.

Knowing i am a sinner,

it was never in my intention

to orate, to teach or to preach;

except that, i am a living being

and i was crafted to express;

i am a skylark, and

it is in my nature to sing;

i am a pen, and it is

inherent for me to write;

then i turned into a blogger

who's addiction is to blog;

and i am a proud child

of a loving Father, who

molded and forged me

into what i am, to whom

i am nothing without;

it is but natural for 
anyone to pay back
and to have grattitude.

..there is nothing

for me to sing;

no reason to write,

nothing to fight or die for,

nothing to brag,

or to shout about;

nothing to speak of,

nothing to say

nothing to blog...

For what is the point in wasting time and breath?

To deal with the superficial and the temporary;

With no hope, and everything leads to the end;

Where uncertainty is the only thing that is certain.

Would it be better to be one 

of those walking ungrateful dead,

who teach hate based on 

empty compassion and hopeless hope;

Who know everything about poison 

but not the antidote; 

No! i'd rather be drunk having time
awaiting for tomorrow to die
than waste a life other than mine;

for unfortunately, i am stupid enough,
 too proud, to would ever dream of 

wearing the mask of a clown.