The hardest bark and thinnest blade of grass;
Reality and dreams – caught on the shoals
Of a sea where the known and unknown
Wage war. A pendulum swinging back and fro.
Caught in the tides to which we never let go
And we become slaves to. We who own
The world actually own nothing. Fools,
Proving themselves with wealth and brass.
A darkness grows from this discrepancy.
These deeds corrupt the primal forces
Born ages before humanity. Destruction.
Is this a law of motion or simply karma?
The Dragacian people were not ready.
Fanatical beasts pour out at a steady,
Unnerving rate. Again, they were not ready.
Hatred it seeps into our hearts filling it black,
The day comes when the dawn will no longer break,
we forget who we are and who they are. A war begins.
We could walk away. Why don’t we? We could.
The differences between us never justify.
To take is to steal for we weren’t given this earth.
Question what you were told. They lied.
The world allows us to be here.
If we betray the kindness how can we say it’s unfair?
Let’s walk away. The march forward we can’t share.
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. . .
“Vigilantes? We’re much worse. Just a demon
Clawing at the world’s innards. We’re anarchy.”
“That’s a band of thieves. Circulate the ill blood,
Feed your greed, toss out scraps from where you stood.”
“To survive takes will, to thrive takes a salary.
We’re all meat but some can become sovereign.”
The day comes when we reflect back. Did we do right?
Far after the fight, way beyond sight; a waning light.
There are possibilities, some harder to envision
Than the rest, that everyone can reach. Few race
Through life but a faster way often ends sooner.
I climb above the streets by wet, cold, slick bricks.
Rain drips from my saturated strands of hair,
Musty air fills my chest, I exhale my breath.
Others carry on through each drop. To stare
At their beautiful bittersweet world, Macbeth.
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.
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.
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.
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.