Mr. Moore, I ask you, why do lies run through your veins?
Mr. Moore, I plead you, has your heart died completely?
Mr. Moore, I say to you, those you hate protect you.
Mr. Moore, I know you, you have your secret plan.
Mr. Moore, I tell you, we are not blind sheep.
Mr. Moore, I imlore you, to look at what you are doing.
Mr. Moore, I beg of you, to cease your spreading lies.
Mr. Moore, I reveal to you, there is nothing more painful than lies.
Mr. Moore, I ask of you, to be an honorable man.
Mr. Moore, I proclaim to you, I see your soul as lifeless.
Mr. Moore, I profess to you, truth wins the war over lies,
EVERY TIME.

Of strong matters I shared today
And yet my heart still throbs from anxiety
Peace come back to me, to my soul
That I might find comfort in thine arms.

Of what is my heart speaking?

Ah, the oddities of life...

I want to be dark, but I want to be light
I want to be tall, and I want to be medium height
I want to be strong, yet I want to be thin
I want to be thin, and I want to be thick
I want blonde hair, but I like brown also
I want perfect teeth, yet I want --oh wait-- no, I do want perfect teeth!

As I watched dreams shatter before my very eyes
I was not sad, I did not cry
I almost felt the hand of time
Only telling me what I already knew.

I cannot seem to escape the sick feelings from the past
Yet I have a peace with them
Though before me hurt made its presence known,
I was not scared, nor did I cringe.

Peace be with my soul
For a soul without peace is no soul at all
And may I find comfort in that which is in my soul
And not in that which tries to destroy it.

From my deepest sleep, I have now awakened.
Almost years have passed since I have come to.
Though life has returned fully to me now,
All eternal bliss has ceased.
With full emotion I am now returned
To the place I love, that precious peace.

A day of celebration... yet can I not simply rest?

This day I am home, I am safely home.
Only by the grace of God am I reached this destination.
He hath provided me a way. A way to follow, all the way home.
For this I am thankful, and I will continue to be
Thankful, for His guidance, and loving me.

In most recent days, I have been pondering the skill of playing the bagpipes. Now, I of course am Scottish, so I would be deceiving if I stated that my heritage had nothing to o with these thoughts. For a long time now, I have had the longing to become learned in the pipes, but I have not moved toward the art-- until now. In the next week I plan to obtain a practice pipe on which I can become skilled in the basics of piping. I have to say my reasoning for wanting to play the pipes is somewhat clouded, but I have a great appreciation for the dramatic effect of the bagpipes. I am most excited in this venture and I am anxious to see where it will lead. I do believe that I will frequently journal about this, as I progress in the skill. I hope and pray that my future in piping will be most exciting and also very moving.

Oh, how I long to describe myself in this record. My longing to be a part of this phenomenon is too great for me to describe. Why do I long so to be a part of this? I cannot say. Only but that I must continue to be here. I must continue to let myself go here. This day has called to me. To write. To you, this phenomenon.

Once a man said to another, "You know, you really should never wear black shoes with a brown suit," to which the other man replied, "Good Sir, you really should never give a man your two cents--unless of course he is asking for change."

Some thoughts on an art...
I was recently pondering one of the arts that I practice and an interesting thought occurred to me: Sometimes, the inspiration that I so desperately need simply refuses to lend its supporting hand. There is nothing that any human can do about this dilemma--that's for sure. But maybe my real problem is that I am seeking a being called inspiration, rather than the One who truly knows me.

There are those in life who, from their tongues,
Put forth the greatest untruths.
We cannot see them, or can we?
But for only time will tell, in days, months
Yes, months will tell if we found them out
Months will tell if we were as stupid as they deemed us to be
The months will tell if we, collectively, were silently smart.

Night slowly befalls us, into deep sleep we must enter
For tomorrow brings a new day, a new dawn
For which we must live life to the fullest.

Why does the dawn call on us to live?
Because we are chosen--by Him
So Sun, I will not hate you any more.

------
Not to belabor the point...
But the sun again was the center of my troubles this morn. Thou it did not surprise me, it still pushed its way through the night sky to pervade the Earth. I found myself of little anger though, as I knew that I was becoming used to the routine. I suppose this is something that will not change any time soon.

I wonder why I have taken such issue with the Sun...
Some might say that I have a "deeper" underlying issue that causes my fervor. This of course is nonsense, as the Sun and I have been battling for years.
I welcome the cloudy skies in lovely shades of grey,
But my nemesis the Sun prefers to shine my rain away.

Still in the comfort of my abode I find peace in the darkness, as I am ever strong in my petitions against the Sun.

The sun rose this morning--of this I was unaware.
It attemped to shine through my window, but I planned ahead.
Now when the sun attempts to creep into my room unexpectedly,
It will be met with a fortress wall that it cannot pass.
I would like to see the Sun try to call my name now.
I will laugh and laugh and laugh at it--of course when I awake.

This is a beautiful place;
There is light here.

The trees standing firm
  Provide the shade is much loved
    Roots are eternal

Cloudy skies reach me
  I am taken up to them
    They change me within

Stars above the clouds
  I see a traveling sky
    Then the moon rises