Shards of a Fallen Paradise

Ever wonder about the nature

Of ethics? Changing with a feature

Called society and without departure.

Well, a isle in an ocean made of memories

Dared to see a new dawn of all the reveries

From which life gains purpose for stories.

 

A Dionysian Kingdom chasing freedom and highs.

At first the denizens talked, expressed, and loved

Without barriers but, jealousy and greed seeped in.

It does everywhere. We often fail to see this truth.

 

Bliss. Do we hide from the obscene or face it headlong?

Truthfully, I hope you never see all these haunting horrors

And can be free from these curses. To know human errors

Is to know your own / Maybe the pain makes us strong.

Among the Sun and the Shade: Intro

They say disregard those that are weird and to accept those that are different. When their charade is exposed the journey begins. We’re sailing into a jungle where a bright Sun burns anyone outside. Most will steer away from this land of tribulation and seek refuge in the shade, but I can’t anymore. The Sun burns away the veil. . .

 

To Be True to Yourself

Everyone wants a place to belong
And a chance at happiness. Imagine,
What will people do without either?
They wage physical and psychological war.

I cross through the sea of their rage
In an exodus from their golden age.
Oh is my heart right? I keep breathing,
It’s all I can do. Yeah, no escaping.

The fact is I’d fight for the right
Of that opinion you hold so tight.
We have to stand up and fight.

Our enemies use our own morals against us.
To divide us. Why do we hate what makes us us?
See there’s a point where others manipulate us
For their own benefit. They don’t care about us.

Try to remember:
We have both a heart and a mind, to love and to understand.
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Echoing voices pass by, yet it’s silent.

Fear keeping them from communicating
As exhaust fumes polluting the air between.
A perpetuating system like the withering
Of a flower. The masses are gathering.
Words lost in all the frequencies unseen.
Does anyone see bleeding hearts desiccating?

Yeah, I’m listening and seeing the truth.
My hands sift through their tears like sand
And I fall to a humbler state.

“Why? Why do we all turn
On others when life gets tough?
They need some love when it’s rough.
Can we change? Or do we burn?”

I’m unready for that cremation.
The sand cannot just be ashes
Of dreams and lives now lost.

Nothing is wrong about dreaming, living, being you;
It isn’t right to dramatize struggles when others bleed.
We have to be better. I’ll be there and I’ll offer my hand
When someone hurts because life can be so cruel.

Utopia? No. — Change.

The serene nature by which the night air accustoms itself to my lungs. Could it be any more calming? A cycle of gravity’s depression upon the cavity of space this solar system inhabits creates a series of events cultivating in this single, unique moment. But my mind spoils this moment with thoughts of others who never appreciate the larger scheme at play. I shiver beneath the pale moon wishing I could breathe new life into those hollow men.
Have they lost their way? Honestly, it’s not my place to weigh hearts against a feather. I simply want to show everyone the beautiful yet complex universe we live in. Bettering the human race doesn’t need to equate to better wages, better living conditions, or any better version of a material object. We need a reawakening of the heart, the thing that makes us human. And that is what I write for instead of chasing success. I’m mortal and I won’t waste my time on building a figurative castle because all of this is made of sand. . .it’s meant to be swept away.
Although everything is temporary, we can all take something from what we’ve made. What matters though? Seeing that things won’t last shows brevity that can shatter any world view and make light out of life’s many quarrels. If we task ourselves with the continuation of life and understanding we can create an even better future than money can create. I can see a more unified humanity, less tragedies, and a greater appreciation of life.
Why aim for such a goal? It seems natural to me for one to care for others and express concerns about the toxicity within their hearts. I wouldn’t say that this desire is foolishly idealistic nor that it is arrogantly realistic. The pragmatic truth says we can do much better due to probability but forcing change only creates further problems so we should teach each other. We can be better and better others through brevity, appreciation, and relaxation.

Understand how finite everything is, appreciate what is and let it be, and allow distance between the truth and feelings.

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We can make a better humanity if we only try.

Live; Don’t Run Away

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.

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The Heart’s Wind

I’ve been watching with my two eyes,
Listening with my two ears, and still
My two hands fumble. The goodbyes
Are nothing but disguised lies that fill
Empty spaces in my heart. All the days
Gone by I keep on my way up a steep hill.

When did I change or did I find
Out just who I really, truly am?

Memories can haunt like creeping shadows.
They’re simply changing my perspective
Of this life, and please keep in retrospective
View that before these clouds were rainbows.

Better times? No, ignorant and blind
Of the fact that life’s found in the wind.
We must make choices without a rewind.

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Evening Wind by Hangmoon

Sometimes we lose sight of the reasons why we did what we did. Heck, there are times we really shouldn’t have done what we did but there’s always a driving force. It isn’t survival instincts or anything profound we simply made a choice. The consequences exist like dominoes falling but, you’ll live in the end and so will everyone else involved. Be who you are because only you understand what that means. Mistakes happen just keep following the wind in your heart. It’ll never mislead you.

Life’s No Game, Progress Can’t Be Saved

Cross the line between the ventricles,
A gunshot to end the show with coins
Upon tired eyes acting as the curtains.
These eyes are closed behind reticles.

The path forward for fools of circumstance,
Saints and sinners alike, lights hearts afire.

Nothing gained without sacrifice. A roll of the dice
Holds onto our destiny. Take a chance or a step back.
Sometimes the gamble deepens the debt, be wise
When the price is no longer yours to bear. Step back.

Life holds true beauty for the selfless wanderers that dare
To care about others without a word. Just learn to share.

The Change Between

There’s a hope found in the inferno blaze
Licking at these feet again. Pillage and raze
The city on a hill, our midsummer daze.

They said “Every flower will someday wilt,”
But nothing of their guilt. Indifference?
No. Ignorance, an unwillingness to accept
That things will always change with time.

A first cry turns into a broken tombstone;
Be you rich, poor, good, evil, lost or found.
Life is the change in between. We might be gone
With our first breath but we still make a sound.

How could that ever be right or wrong?
For even a dew-kissed rose has thorns.

sa;bdry

The MAJI

These misguided efforts to overcome or change
An outcome is no more than a balancing act.
But who else would? The riddle of existence.

When others stand in your way clear the path,
Be them stronger, richer, or holier. Hell hath
No fury stronger than what hearts run on.
Not coal or oil. Blood and hope, life’s contagion.

I don’t bow and never will,
If power matters so much you’re unfit
To rule and you too must fade.

If the meek will ever rise we’re artifacts of an age
Long dead in terms of practicality. The war we wage
Never ends because we chase glory, our damage.

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The MAJI: Soldiers without a creed