Life is either Religion or Science
Both, on either side, two states that fight
But what is that in between, is unseen
No man’s land, the grey, the unnamed, unspoken-
The Untitled
That thing has no reference, spoken about, written aloud, always defining, always undefined
If it makes, creates, relates of value to a side, it is taken aside, as proof for the otherside, or other side
The only thing that defines but cannot be defined, for what it is, not, but is
The Great War, renamed, to the first war, as the second came to be
It never left, always right here, yet out of sight
Religion and Science, declaring, a winner, or the sinner, in the ongoing process of faith and reason, every season, unbeknownst, they help the other grow, they show in another, what the other does not want to know
And yet, remains, the middle, neutral, all unseeing, be_tween, underlined, under the word_line of what cannot be read, said, or shown
What makes the middle of this sentence
If not for equal words on both ends
Therefore side by side the middle decides that the two coincide
Spiritually accepting, reasonably so, for what is reason without the within
The middle has a name, and perhaps some believe to define it, others believe it to be a sign of the divine, but no matter–like pointing at air, or defining what is fair, or asking about the meaning of welfare
Thinking, feeling, being and all that hangs in the mist, between the two, trenches, like no man’s land is not thought of as welfare, but fought for warfare
Right or Wrong, is a song, sung by both sides, inside as one, and outside as two, as war wages on, there was and is stalemate, and peace all along, in the middle where it will always belong
Neither accepts, either will refuse, but the middle will defuse, for it cannot lose, nor win, nor sin, as all are welcome to meet once again
With a textbook, or a fable, any may be at the table
Who decides the undecidable, righteously wrong, orchestrated by us, or something higher, more strong, but whatever it is that pointing in the air, the knot of isnot
structurally, poetically, and origin-ally
/shared\
Sincerely, the Un | Titled