A quest for a reason, is to seek a labor of love.
Fear not, said thy youngin, for love, love is infinite.
But to find for thy a reason, is a journey from the sure, through to the unknown, for the promise of all.
Yet to seek what no person can see; one must understand a language no person can speak.
For in the mind of eye, how glorious is we, yet in the quest for love, lest not we forget the importance of he and she.
So, sail upon the vision you see, wave after wave, pound after pound, all aboard and head for the safe.
Yet ask, is love not the bearer of necessary illusion, a comfort of acceptance, a stagnation of will?
For love is an action, much like owning a mill.
Thus, only a profit can be a telling distraction, for when you reach the bank, it’s only a river you will cry.
So when the bubble will burst, the flames extinguish, breathe in slowly, for oxygen will reignite.
Thus, when purpose becomes the question, only then, all of life shall we hold.
So run, run blindly through the trees, for when you bump and fall, it’s a forest you will call.
Observe, observe when you see a saw that cuts up and down, up up and stay, stock still in motion, a slice of time will fall away.
In its place, a purpose will sway, lest not the reason we left, become a journey of test.
Chop and change the see does not, only sand, for sand can become glass, which much like life, becomes clear through change.
So cherish the search for reason, for if it is a quest for love, then love must be the bearer of necessary illusion.
For when the love of thy turns wise, an intoxication will flood, for the love of thy is really a question of who am I?
So, observe when regret settles in place of empty thoughts, thoughts that lay heavy with promise. Only then shall one know, you cannot bid a goodbye until the last of time.
Yet, to observe what no person can see; is to know a language no person can speak.
So love, but love for thyself, for reason, reason is finite.