The Plea Part 2
by Kyle Moree
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I might have taken off more than I can chew. It seems a whirl-wind like thought has made a mess in my mind. Now, I'm not one to complain but at some point I must ask for help. At some point I'm going to need someone to fix me up. Am I miss hearing something? Are birds singing for no reasons? Is the moon glowing without purpose? I can't help but think so. I can't help but wonder when I reach for the sky. Their must be something more then the junk I'm swimming in, their must be more to life than fame & death. Fear overwhelms me in the middle of star-less nights; I'm overwhelmed with thoughts of failure. Am I doing the right thing? Is the path I am on my own or God's? Proud eyes turn to spitful glares when my body enters the room. Failure & confused must be written all over my face, for when I look in my peer's eyes that is all I see. To escape I'll day dream myself to a not so far off idea; I'll pretend I'm doing what I love without fear. Is it too much to ask for? To have love in my life, to have someone who cares when I struggle to breathe. This paper will never kiss anyone else, but I know God has seen these words & heard the cries in my soul. Hopefully I'll hear a response back. Hopefully I'm not the only person living in a never ending civil war. Declare peace my mind cries but I know this is impossible. This is me; I am the impossible wall dividing the real love from the fake. And what is love? How do you define love? From the day we were born to the day we die, we are spoon fed an idea of love. Love is watered down with a few bits of sugar cubes to keep us coming back for more. Love has turned to a rusty lust and I fear true love has been lost in the ashes of the 60's. Am I not human? Stab me, shot me, kick me and wont' I bleed? We are small blades of grass trying hard to be the tallest in the yard, pretending to be immortal we grow and grow thinking of no down side until a cold breeze blows through our souls to shake us back down. We take love & add nothing & hope for everything. When will we learn to be what we are?! We are humans with human like emotions, and yet we throw these ideas away as being week; as being mere human.
Our old rot away with no one to hold on to their exhales. Our young are black & blue all over with no one to inspire hope in them. How can we sit back with those things going on & pretend we believe in something has profound as love? How dare we even call ourselves "brothers & sisters"! A true family does not depart its sick, lonely, or poor. I am truly on th edge of my seat as these thoughts run down to this paper. My bones ache & my soul cries out for a change of spirit with this lost world. Have we lost our hearts? How can we live with ourselves? Take your weak thoughts and false methods and bury them where you've buried your heart. I, for one, will be the first to tell you where I buried my heart, but I will not sleep till it is uncovered. We dig up the past bones and place them in our pockets because we want to hold onto ourselves. Bury yourself! Deny your flesh! Take hold of Christ's hand & carry your cross to the finish line. My hands shake with the thoughts of His love. Love equals freedom but I feel we've lost the formula. Look at the birds hanging in the sky, they spell love more clearly than any human (writer or not) could ever do on his own! I'm talking circles around my soul, telling myself that the thought of love I understand is the true way God made it to be. How foolish am I! How thoughtless am I to believe that I, a lowly human, could create something as powerful as true love.
Our old cry alone, our young cry alone, I cry alone. And we all put a mask on & pretend this is love. It's 2 a.m. & our problems are sleeping, but this one has knocked us into a coma.
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Kyle, your article SCREAMS out to a comotose generation. Yes, I heard you. A lot of us hear you. Although it may seem that more do not. But most importantly, it hasn't fallen on deaf ears in heavenly realms. And the reason it didn't get passed God is because it came from His heart first... long before it leaked out of yours onto paper. We'd all do well to hear it... to wake up to the heart-cries of God. "What is this 'thing' you are calling 'love'?... 'Love' in all its fullness became your sins and defeated death for you. And yet, you live for this thing you call 'love', rather than dying to the thing you love most... your self." I hear ya.