Vanity,
That’s right,
I can’t hide from it,
Honesty I seek truth,
But know it not,
For it always changes on me,
But this I do know,
That when it is time to go,
It will be all-insignificant,
Whether I’m below,
Or whether I’m above,
If I was hated,
Or loved,
How does one find his part?
Where is the actor in the play?
Like it is said,
All the world is a stage,
But then of course,
It would be all vanity then,
For it would be a play,
Not the real thing,
But I don’t know,
Would you be able to tell me so?

///

I’m going to interrupt “Vanity” so that I may ask a question of thee…
What does it mean when Christ says,
That he is the truth, the light, the way, the life?
Most of you do not care,
And will discard this into the air,
Or in other words do away with it here,
But in all truth,
I must say,
That I don’t really care anymore myself,
It has driven me into madness,
Insane to believe such a thing,
I do not understand the meaning of his sayings,
And I don’t know why I thought I could,
Or in time I would,
And at the moment,
Why I even should…
These sayings I just wrote,
May be the slicing of my throat,
For to truly believe,
One doesn’t think of that he/she believes,
If you are sitting down,
Does it puzzle you,
Or do you question the thought,
Of you sitting,
As of now?
I sure hope not,
For then you have lost,
And a mad one,
You have become…
Faith,
Do you understand this thing?
For a baby child must have faith,
To get from the coffee table to the couch,
But you and me think nothing of walking,
We just go about and be…
For if one questions faith,
That one doesn’t have enough,
For if one questions belief,
His/her belief sucks,
If you question hope,
There is despair in you there…
But hey,
I must say,
It isn’t you,
That is writing these little truths,
It is me,
You see,
I’m the one who is questioning,
Yet I’m also sharing,
For be it vanity,
And if there be no clarity,
Then I’m the swine,
That the pearls have been hidden from,
Probably because I would share them with everyone,
But hey,
What would it matter,
The devil is preparing his batter,
And the cooks from above,
Fill the wine glasses with pure love,
Where shall I be?
Where shall I end up?
I have no clue,
For that decision,
Is not within my cup,
I have no vision,
Of the such…

Ryan Brady O’Reilly
01/03/2002