Days with dry mouth, parched by sun and sand. Shall we drink in our dreams or memories or ponder our predicament? Days with clean heart, none, not of my own volition as my stomach rules my heart and my organs my commitment.

Am I made whole by my love of art and fashion? Or perhaps by my ability to generate memes and content on line seeing the enormous wealth amassed by time and talent? My dry lips are drenched in the purchase of my own will and power.

Worship me in the desert and I will return you to communal comfort, they say but never deliver. There is no more appropriate word than the rebuke that comes from the mouth of God for this idolatry of lies. But our thirst is slaked by deception.

Depart from me, such painful stance to a lonely man or woman. Who lose the single thing that makes them feel less lonely even when alone. So much attention of God’s eyes upon me that I would rather have back the thirst some times than have Him see.

What is joy in the middle of a wrestling match? Do you truly fear the man who scowls and proclaims your coming destruction? Or is it the man who smiles as he tosses you around a bit who truly wrecks your morning? Perhaps a popped hip is in order today?

This match will never be decided in my rage induced anger, but in the moments I stop, winded but enduring and imagine or declare my intention in the struggle. Impassioned destruction only suits the repetitive nature of mans continued conquest over nothing.

Why then do all men feel the urge to fight on? The mirror shows me the struggle has always been internal and the enemy laughs as he has convinced me that I may blame him for perpetual idiocy. Why would I ever help God’s enemies enjoy my struggle?

To rest and realize this gerbil entertainment is poorly used on men. For we quest against demonstrated history of the irony and futile nature of repeated experiments with expectation of eternal outcome. There is only one way and that only relatively recent in offering.

Do we seek cure or maintenance of symptoms? Though the rule gives me cathartic justice, nothing provides the same relief as obedience to the Laws of God. So I will fight on with God and neighbor for the joy of muscle building surplus. Knowing it never was solution.

For all the answers that have ever made a difference have been found in peace and arms laid to rest. The fools errand to procure peace through Dominion squeezes men into the tube and forces the combustible pressure to build until flames or fury break free.

The time has arrived to look upon our entire history and for once in man’s existence choose to do something that has never been accepted. The machinery must not fail but rather find no more willing participants, rather having made the choice to smile, laugh and wrestle on.

So many reasons or so I thought to win the battles in the sand or jungle. Yet, forthcoming is another war against someone I was taught to hate without evidence. No it is the deception that we fight and show our foolish understanding as we fight ourselves to win the prize.