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.
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.
A dagger thrust between your chest
And mine. See the light of dawn
On this horizon where dreams rest
In their forlorn cradle and coffin.
“Oh please just take away the pain, a stain of a life
Only washed away by our blood with this one knife.”
Eternity will call as we fall to our knees
One by one in procession. We’re falling
Through the skyline and I’m unafraid
Of what comes next. Hello or goodbye?
This is an evolution-revolution-devolution
To see myself fall from materialistic highs.
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.
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.
Falling from risen towers through the sky
To the sea. I never imagined I’d see through
The membrane of all I ever believed. A fall
So great all the seraphim, those we lost, cry.
In this sorrowful rain I recollect on the way
I lived. Regrets and joys are the things I pay
To see how fickle life truly is. No, I can’t stay.
This old path casts shadows I’ve grown accustomed to. I’ll fight
My way out trying to see light once more. I must change. . .
I’ve always loved the concept of falling in a metaphysical sense. We live lives like we’re creating miniature towers of Babel which eventually fall and rightfully so. We can blame others for the fall but only our hands did the masonry. A time comes that our hearts will lead us on a better path with our mind keeping us from going too far. The fall teaches us that individual gain doesn’t matter if we hurt others to reach it. But some hurt is unavoidable as we lose things once so dear to us in this life.
From ashes of a tree obsidian walls rise around.
A ghost conjuring tragedy. Don’t make a sound.
The Obsidian Lord feasts on the hysteria and fear.
Like exuberant birds scattered by a gunshot
We’re the prey in this great hunt. For every tear
They still offer us no mercy. Rage so hot
Burning the rope that we hold onto ever so dear
In hopes that we can find water. Caught
Between hurt and hope yet, tomorrow is so near.
From a well we can still replenish what’s been lost
In search of who we are. They don’t understand
What we have on the inside that keeps us going.
No matter the darkness standing right before us we walk
Without fear. Never give them an inch or they’ll talk and talk.
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