If we stand alone in a crowd of people, how can we truly say we are alone? The word alone in itself means to be singular.
Can our minds truly feel singular in a vast field of other minds in the same state or does our subconscious take comfort in the fact that while we tell ourselves we are alone we truly are more connected than we allow ourselves to feel, all for fear of connecting wrong, If there is such a concept.
How can your mind stay on one course when it is clouded by all the obvious other options, the what ifs of legends. Could life truly be greener down another path had you turned instead of holding course? Who’s to say what course is right?
Can a brave mind that struggles in silence be as loved as one that openly flaunts its conspiracies?
All minds are not measured equally as all men are measured by their lack of concentration. Is that why men falter so much in there pursuits to stay true to one object instead of spreading there venom to many unequal objects. Each are content in their own security, on the surface that is ….underneath each object is as shallow and self absorb as the men from which they are unequal.
Can our minds truly feel singular in a vast field of other minds in the same state or does our subconscious take comfort in the fact that while we tell ourselves we are alone we truly are more connected than we allow ourselves to feel, all for fear of connecting wrong, If there is such a concept.
How can your mind stay on one course when it is clouded by all the obvious other options, the what ifs of legends. Could life truly be greener down another path had you turned instead of holding course? Who’s to say what course is right?
Can a brave mind that struggles in silence be as loved as one that openly flaunts its conspiracies?
All minds are not measured equally as all men are measured by their lack of concentration. Is that why men falter so much in there pursuits to stay true to one object instead of spreading there venom to many unequal objects. Each are content in their own security, on the surface that is ….underneath each object is as shallow and self absorb as the men from which they are unequal.
A SENSE OF MAGIC 2008
Some people think there is nothing magical about the world we live in. Some would say that magic does not exist. Well, maybe they are right, but maybe their definition of magic is off from the reality of it?
Every spoken word that is heard loud and clear through touch is magic. Every spark of electricity that moves through the air when your eyes catch that of the love you have waited for could also be called magic. Could it be that simple? Could something as trivial as sound hold the key to the world of magic where dreams never end in waking, but waking begins the dream.
If you close your eyes, could you see the thin line between what we dream, and what we call reality? How thin can that line become, once we give up the absurd assumption that all is mundane, and open our senses to the wonders that emotions have to offer. Instead, most are happy to cut off that kind of thinking. It’s a world created simply…perhaps too simply.
We’ve closed our eyes to the true magic, content to stop feeling altogether for fear of what one may do if another doesn’t return their sentiment. Should we stop feeling all together? It is much safer that way. But what would we miss? What magic would slip by us while we unexpectedly slumber in our own box content never to step outside? All the while learning to ignore the magic that fills the smallest of glances, the steps of taking chances, and the all too quickly forgotten giving of second chances.
Dreams we call those that we wish for, out of reach are usually the words that follow such a title, but is it that out of reach? Could you be that out of touch with reality, true reality, not the remote sense of everyday findings but the essence of what is yet to be discovered.
Every spoken word that is heard loud and clear through touch is magic. Every spark of electricity that moves through the air when your eyes catch that of the love you have waited for could also be called magic. Could it be that simple? Could something as trivial as sound hold the key to the world of magic where dreams never end in waking, but waking begins the dream.
If you close your eyes, could you see the thin line between what we dream, and what we call reality? How thin can that line become, once we give up the absurd assumption that all is mundane, and open our senses to the wonders that emotions have to offer. Instead, most are happy to cut off that kind of thinking. It’s a world created simply…perhaps too simply.
We’ve closed our eyes to the true magic, content to stop feeling altogether for fear of what one may do if another doesn’t return their sentiment. Should we stop feeling all together? It is much safer that way. But what would we miss? What magic would slip by us while we unexpectedly slumber in our own box content never to step outside? All the while learning to ignore the magic that fills the smallest of glances, the steps of taking chances, and the all too quickly forgotten giving of second chances.
Dreams we call those that we wish for, out of reach are usually the words that follow such a title, but is it that out of reach? Could you be that out of touch with reality, true reality, not the remote sense of everyday findings but the essence of what is yet to be discovered.
~~Is There Any? 2008~~
Is there ever a path you can take to redeem the things that you have done? A hopeless venture would be to try to redeem all the horrors of your mind. Do not be fooled by the half hearted attempts at subtle platitudes that spill from others lips like slippery serpents in the garden of old. Is there any more creative than a man whose words are used to fool a young girl into submission.
~~Melody 2008~~
A heart that’s torn, torn in two.
A love that’s broken but found anew.
A partial smile behind what lies,
A treacherous event that’s in disguise.
A hidden part the world can’t see, locked away in my melody
A sinking ship that’s found no course.
A barren road of endless waste,
A treasure do I no longer chase.
Consumed by all that’s cloaked in hate,
All the timing far too late.
~~~~Escape 2008~~~
(A quick note to readers)
This was something I had in my head screaming to get out. It will actually be turned into a book if i can ever finish the 3 other books.
My thoughts have turned inside out and upside down to grasp the meaning behind all sound. The spoken word rests softly on lips not yet part, to seal the deal of two bloods hearts. Yet, to speak of hearts as beating wild when he brings angelic smiles, would be dismal, dreary, dry, could not bring justice to what’s inside. A melody sung soft and sweet. A gentle touch upon my cheek could brighten up the darkest sky and send the terrors from my mind. But who’s to know of loves great kiss, the hands of all the shattered bliss that wakens me from my sleep how much more must I pray you keep. Keep me here in the sands of time safe and sound inside my mind. While my body lies here broken, bruised while my soul flies with the muse, with the fates of broken time with the filth that clouds his mind. Here I lie without the sorrow. Please I beg of you this night let me stay; avoid the fight. For if I go I fear he’ll come that evil troll to steal my sun. My body lies not mine alone instead it’s his a ragged stone.
I will keep my eyes still closed so no one knows that disgusting vile things are done when I’m left without my sun. So, ban me not from this slumber let me stay escape his hunger. For if I leave, escape no more a life of hollow shadowed doors, fill my conscious time away. In my head the game I’ll play.
This was something I had in my head screaming to get out. It will actually be turned into a book if i can ever finish the 3 other books.
My thoughts have turned inside out and upside down to grasp the meaning behind all sound. The spoken word rests softly on lips not yet part, to seal the deal of two bloods hearts. Yet, to speak of hearts as beating wild when he brings angelic smiles, would be dismal, dreary, dry, could not bring justice to what’s inside. A melody sung soft and sweet. A gentle touch upon my cheek could brighten up the darkest sky and send the terrors from my mind. But who’s to know of loves great kiss, the hands of all the shattered bliss that wakens me from my sleep how much more must I pray you keep. Keep me here in the sands of time safe and sound inside my mind. While my body lies here broken, bruised while my soul flies with the muse, with the fates of broken time with the filth that clouds his mind. Here I lie without the sorrow. Please I beg of you this night let me stay; avoid the fight. For if I go I fear he’ll come that evil troll to steal my sun. My body lies not mine alone instead it’s his a ragged stone.
I will keep my eyes still closed so no one knows that disgusting vile things are done when I’m left without my sun. So, ban me not from this slumber let me stay escape his hunger. For if I leave, escape no more a life of hollow shadowed doors, fill my conscious time away. In my head the game I’ll play.
