The Black Swan Anomaly

The Black Swan Anomaly

It was late in Summer, you had fallen ill. You stared off in a romance, in love sitting still. Watching the leaves on the branches change; thinking about the next page.

You thought of suffering no more. You thought of the things you couldn't ignore. The things that you did, wondering your fate. For will you make it to the golden gate?

"Life plays it's game like a song, when the melody stops, another soul is gone. Is Heaven really the place that all good souls go, or is that until we are gone, we will never know?"

So he sat there, stared at the sun shining down. Not unpleasently, not with a frown. For the years he had watched over me, those years flashed in his mind with glee.

I had grown up, in search of a place to call home. But what I didn't realize was I wasn't alone. We all seem to search endlessly to be complete. It is the black swan anomaly of defeat. Why, oh why is it that we seek. For our curiosity is to our will which is weak.

I watched him suffer, not a complaint did he speak, but I could still see in his eyes, that he was content with the outcome so bleak.

Now I wonder when I will make my way home, did I lose my way, am I all alone. I know for sure home is not here. Not in this life on Earth; I fear. I fear that the stories of our history we have forgot, and maybe in hell, we shall all rot.

I have no idea if there will open a place in his hands? For not wise we have grown humans; we are a disgrace to these lands. Little had we known, the truth was a race. We were all going home; to look at God's face.

Heaven is welcome to all good souls you know, the problem is there is too much death and illness and darkness shown.

There must be a part of the heart in there somewhere, that gave us the ability; we all once cared. But what I realized is our souls are not prepared. We have not thought with kindness, we could have shared.

Do you know the links in the golden chain, what makes the sunrise and what makes it rain? Then we will live in a home on earth, otherwise, we wait till we lay in the dirt.

Home to me is where my soul lives. Above us with the love that he gives. My home with the angels, I will find my way home. Because in this life and the next, God is with me; I'll never be alone.

It was late in Summer, you had fallen ill. You stared off in a romance, in love sitting still.

You thought of suffering no more, you thought of the things you couldn't ignore.

The things that you did, wondering your fate. For will you make it to the golden gate?

He asked. Is Heaven really the place that all good souls go, or is that until we are gone, we will never know?

So he sat there, stared at the sun shining down. Not unpleasantly, not with a frown.

For years he had watched over me, those years flashed in his mind with glee.

One day here the next he was gone and we never figured out in the end who was right or wrong.

Then I wondered why you had to go, I realized you were never gone, you were teaching me what I need to know. Thank you for bravely facing goodbye, because there should be no cry, no worries, no wondering why. You are on a journey home when one dye.

Let the living live and the dead lye. Your home is in heaven way up in the sky.