by James Moody
When pen is set to paper, as in tales that sing in rhymes
Is always with conjecture that I share these special times
Whether words of praise
or whether rant and raves
Seems these moments only where the hope of truth does shine
Was left to me to search and see if through reason I could discern
Sift out what’s fact from what’s assumed and know of what I’ve learned
More than hope with no pretenses
and without distortion of defenses
Knowing truth is what matters most in all of life’s concerns
My study time is near completion, is time to test conclusions
Truths that I’ve determined from this world of vast delusions
Whether scientist or religious sage
both claim to have the truth engaged
Yet neither can defend their concepts without mystic illusions
Would rather stand alas redeemed than live but few tomorrows
For all the wages that’s paid in pain is just the start of horrors
To know that everything that’s been done
is nothing special for anyone
Then my reasons here have cost too dear for all the loss in sorrows
Yet I must say that hopes today are not lost in all the theories
Is my quest to put at rest with answers to my inquires
Still there’s truth that can be found
that often turns my mind around
Expands on hope for all who wait and refreshes my heart that’s weary
Last updated April 06, 2016