I've finally gotten around to sorting through a bunch of scraps/old bits and pieces of writing and I found this draft that I wrote probably around 2002ish. Before I knew anything about Jesus (from a self who had never picked up a bible or heard anything from Scripture). It's pretty interesting to me, to step back into my past thoughts. It seems like I had some concept of final judgment and human enslavement to the self. It's so interesting. God is merciful to me.
How long will it take before
We find what we're looking for
In this world
That we seem to simulate
How long until the time runs out
Before we'll finally be able to see
All our doubts
And angers from all the lifetimes
We've slaughtered
In our quest for success
How long until the journey ends
For this enslavement
Time cannot mend
For this entrapment
Which we have placed ourselves in
When will we find freedom
And free ourselves from this epiphany
Of which only cowardice and misjudgment brings forth
Why do we seem to think
That we shall be the prosecutors
And escape the final judgment.
How long will it take before
We find what we're looking for
In this world
That we seem to simulate
How long until the time runs out
Before we'll finally be able to see
All our doubts
And angers from all the lifetimes
We've slaughtered
In our quest for success
How long until the journey ends
For this enslavement
Time cannot mend
For this entrapment
Which we have placed ourselves in
When will we find freedom
And free ourselves from this epiphany
Of which only cowardice and misjudgment brings forth
Why do we seem to think
That we shall be the prosecutors
And escape the final judgment.
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