Traversing pass thousands of stars.
The river erases everything even scars.
Greedily holding onto this one, lonely sunset
We burn our hands. The way barred by a lack
Of dreams and a melancholy sickness. Hack
And cough up the ilk we take as our regiment.
Who knows what’s right any longer?
A masquerade that never ends despite
All of the tears behind carbon masks.
We see the headlines reading our wounds,
Self-inflicted and left to go septic.
Run in circles and scream for change
From ourselves; it’s only our fault.
When we take off the masks we’re fearful
Of everyone else. The monsters in our heads
Were born when we fell so low to the floor.
Between the burn and the fall gain humility.
Entertain the idea that we all might be wrong
In this expansive universe. Dreams so strong
They can shatter through our false reality.
If we keep heading in the same direction we will reach where we’re headed. We can hope for a miracle or forget the bad but that ain’t an answer. Face the darkest and brightest day with the same desire to see tomorrow. ~ Don’t follow those that can’t discern their heart from a crowd. Because the worst thing we can become is numb and dismissive.
Vasha'Lakar 
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