Reason

[Iesu]

Why should it be this way, that things are done out of mind? Though every thought logic conjures, the heart seems to negate. That with each and every knowledge earned, a counter upon the heart?s mind seeming to turn it illogical.

Which should be followed, logic or emotion? That which keeps us alive or that which makes us live, which should be the choice. If again and again these are played in mind, should it have an end to the endless ramblings? Should it even be deciphered if the end is there?

An endless debate upon which is which, if only the answers were plain and simple, if only life was plain and simple. Should it be always this way, that with each thought, the heart seems to contradict? That each time you wish the memory to abate, the heart seems to allow it to appear?

If only these endless ramblings would continue. That the war of words upon which to be followed should go on until the end of days. Will it be a better compromise from my thoughts of her? Will it be the answer that was once sought before?

Before solitude was sought after in the form of another problem, whether larger or smaller, only to distract the mind so that the heart will follow. Should it be that way, that logic is abated through logic itself? Through distraction, will the problem pass?

In the end it only meant nothing. Upon the silence of the night, what logic seemed to have tried to affirm, the heart seems to have negated once again. That which the mind wishes to forget, the heart only seems to return, stronger than as if it was the only thought that had been in mind.

Why should reason always follow that which was found? Why should every warm memory that the heart has experienced require a reason for its existence? Why should the undefined be sought to define? Why does the heart do things for reasons that reason can?t understand?

Should there be a reason to everything, a reason to explain these feelings? These which the thought has spent endless to explain only to fail once again. One simple thought that would complex as the drama unfold, seeming to know no bounds.

Has my feelings for her earned this status of omniscience, that whichever answer had been would only fail to exist as the reason for it shifts yet the same reason conjures once again another thought? Why can?t these thoughts concur with each other, only to ramble on without remorse.

Should there be a reason to everything, a reason to explain why I care for her? Should I have a thought before I would be there for her, obtain a measure to always keep her safe? Would I be able to do as much, or will my will negate this thought of idiocy?

Idiocy or knowledge, should there be a reason to act in the most insignificant measure or to compensate with what the thought could create? Is there a memory built to return us to our previous, to when careless words and careless thoughts were thrown out of rage?

Should there be a reason to everything, a reason to explain why I love her? Should I give thought to what is undefined, give a meaning to what has been ages understood yet unknown of? Should I waste my time creating an answer when an answer was never needed?

Should it be that way, only to act when what should be done is to think? Should I give significance to reason or should I seek only the thought without logic? Will it be another question left unanswered upon the endless streams of time, moved upon the never ending threads of fate?

Should feelings attain omniscience, that it exceeds all amounts of explanation, only an inherent existence? Should concern bear this uncertainty, in order to call it as such? Should love be simply an illogical act, only to find that logic was the only thing holding it back?