The antithesis I thought to ponder as I ran, which is stronger?
Is dark or light, which one greater?
Is one greater than the other or the both the same?
If I strive for light but end up in the dark,
Have I ever ever gained anything at all?
I’ll die, anyway, at the end of it all.
Whether by life came birth, or in the beginning was nothing,
Was antithesis our beginning, or in the beginning were we something?
And I pondered as I pounded the miles through my feet.
I pondered my religious study of my religious beat.
I don’t go religion. I don’t go to people. I feel like life is running,
Life is running, running steeple.
And so my ponders momentum gain.
Struggle, rise, fall yet again.
And every time the same.
Struggle only to rise and fall yet again.
By what force the antithesis its strength empowers.
By what strength man recovers from his cowardice?
When every time, the fall is greater, as though exponential or by decay in falling.
But they told me in math the function xy = 4 has ass-in-totes, or something like that.
It’s hard to understand when they build their books like pack-rats.
And asses in totes or the totes for the asses, I still ponder and question the falling and passes.
I wish I could. I wish I might understand question, reason for light.
Whether light be greater, or is it the dark?
When all ceases to be, darkness remains. What about me?
And balance is there? Equilibrium?
Or are the states divided like stakes in poker table chips?
If I roll roulette instead of sit down for cards,
Do I lose do I win by choosing my state my art?
If I choose to run for religion instead of visit peopled-up carts?
And I say to others that running is an art, and I am an artist. I run. (even though they call me atheist.)
I say that running is itself an art. And I try and pretend that it can be one.
I feel light, energy, happiness in it. So much greater than that deep dark pit.
So much greater than the pit of religions where I went,
Asked questions, got booted for asking too much.
When they kicked me out for asking too much.
And I run and run and leave religion in the past.
But yet I still wonder as I journey and pass,
Is light stronger, or is it the dark? Is all momentary, transient?
Are the clocks and the quartz, the states of space-time bent?
Who designs who governs decides the starts?
And the end from beginning, are we all just warts?
Is creation itself any more than a virus, only biding its time until it divides us?
Can balance or equilibrium bring good about at all?
Powers of darkness gather gather gather…
And my mind gets darkened by their call.
The Antithesis continues to call call call as he has for 17 years, without ceasing.
Is there an end at all?