Existence.

the sky once swirled to the ground and the wind used the earth to build a figure
the shape grew from an insignificant dream to an unbelievable and magnificent being
the sun shone its rays to fill the form with light and goodness
the ocean roared and engulfed the miracle with life and everlasting nutrition
the plants that grew from the dirt sprinkled seeds of love so the new life could be a sharer of glory
the rain poured creativity and imagination into the being whilst snowflakes shared their originality and beauty
stones from deep within the core of the planet rose from their burial places to shelter the magical creature from harm and create a shell that would protect it always
finally, the colours of the world all combined to paint the figure into an exquisite masterpiece

; the fabrication of humans.

it is only when the sky turns grey and the lightning strikes that the figure shall be blackened
when the ever-growing dreams become greedy and the being is weakened
when the sun is hidden behind dark clouds and shadows reign over what once was radiant
when the ocean no longer chooses to keep feeding needs that are transient and empty
the seeds that once grew into love turn to lust and lies and dim what once was so divine
the rain evaporates and the snowflakes melt when originality lacks and conformity rules
the stones become battered and crumble to a dust that no longer wishes to be a part of what once was
the colours of life that blessed the being with brilliance turn bleak and trickle down back into the earth

; the realities that challenge humanity.

There's Nothing There.

you poke, you prod and you stab
you try to cut through the skin and through the cage that holds my heart
and back in the day, it would've worked;
i would've been cold on the floor
but today your pathetic knives just bounce off my shields
you mean nothing anymore
you can't harm me- you can't hurt me anymore
but thanks for trying.

The Light.

here's something that i never do!
it's not dark and dreary! :)

there are times when i feel like the plague has taken my soul captive
but in a world that i have created in my mind i am free and healthy
the sun shines bright and we can travel on its rays without worrying about getting burned
we can hop from cloud to cloud and soar of the gusts of wind that lift us off our feet and carry us away
we never have to worry about starving or being thirsty, for the ocean is our friend and provider

take a step toward me, please
oh, you're always so far away
i stretch and i reach, but even at their limit, my limbs cannot extend far enough to reach you
if only i could come in contact
if only i could intertwine my desperate fingers with yours
how they would fit just right

shake me and the dirt and ash shall fall from my skin and come to rest on a ground more welcoming than i
my sins shall fly away and bury themselves in the ground and never rise again
i shall emerge a new soul and shed pleasant tears of glimmering crystals that will plant seeds and grow trees of light that will shimmer for you when your days seem dark

you are the greatest thing i've ever known
your passion, care and love has been shown
and within your light i see myself
and i feel as if the world is right

with eyes like gems that sparkle and gleam, overlaying a heart that shines with dreams
you cannot hear it, but the angels sing for you, for everything you say is none but true
thank you for living and thanks for being alive, because with you around my soul is revived.

Someone Like You. (Adele Cover!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-Yd5xbRZOQ&feature=youtu.be

There's Always a Story.

next time you're in another one of those populated areas, take a look around you.
every single person.
every being that lives and breathes the air you share has a story.
a story you shall probably never get the chance to or care to hear.
seven billion lives surround us; all with a story.

this absolutely blows my mind.

Real vs. Fake.

there's the girl with the golden curls locked together with a tight-laced ribbon, sittin' pretty for all the young boys to see.
in the wind she's a stunner with her eyes to the sky, soaking in the sun's rays that compliment her physical structure and accent her curves with perfectly-placed shadows.
like an angel the world surrounds her and her beauty like a magic that captures every soul surrounding.
her lips a cherry red- not too bright, not too light and her nose like the flawless slope we like to ski.
her fingers so delicate, so beautiful, so soft and her legs endless pathways to the stars.

there's the girl who owns the most impeccable machine, her body running off the fuel of the love that is given to her each day.
a sphere of energy surrounds her glowing shape and travels with her each thoughtful step she takes.
a heart of gold placed properly in a cage of shining crystal that lies within her chest is what leads her to the decisions she makes.
she is lovely- inside and out, because she is real.


then there's the girl who hides under the skin of another that she found in a magazine.
afraid to show real beauty, she cowers under the tight strips of cotton she calls clothing.
who would know if she were lovely? who would be able to tell? with the image she creates, originality is lost, dragging beauty along into the abyss.
to touch her is to bring danger upon her life- a threat to crack the shell she's placed so carefully around her being.

then there's the girl who must fight each day to defend the character she's stolen from the media and called her own.
by selling herself as so many do, she must lift her chin each day to those who see through her translucent shield.
what elegance may lie inside is hidden by a screen of hateful words and a face that smiles to please, not because it is happy.
outside she is a satisfying sight for those who do not care to read the story behind the cover of the book.
she is picturesque- outside, not in, because she gives just the illusion of reality.


whom shall you chose to be? whom shall you chose to love?

Weakness vs. Strength.

life is spinning and twisted.
crying, lying, yelling through dawn to dusk and every other hour.
your soul is strangled by the rope that tightens with every disagreement and every glare.
the helmet you wear during this war leaves your heart exposed to the dangers of flying shrapnel.
it's not your battle to fight; you're planted by the sidelines, dodging the passing bullets.

you're howling at the blue moon while flapping your arms to the beat of the silence.
your mind is scrambled and wandering along roads many never dare to wander.
you baked some, ate some, sold some and ate some more.
now you're washing it down with some liquid relief.
every night you repeat the process and beat your body down.
your internal machine is crying for a break, but its cries are silenced by the flood.

there is no way out- only a way to veil reality.
this "treatment" weaves a mask of smoke that covers the truth in your eyes.
no one can know of the war. no one can see the scars this way.
desperate words drag themselves out of your voice box and attempt to be heard, but are washed back down with each swallow of poison you push down your gullet.
the suffering you feel inside is undetectable to the naked eye.
fate's cruelty will end one day if you let the day come, but your belief is fading.

the persistence of your nightly pattern shall be the end of you.
if only you would have set your words free instead of choosing weakness.
you've crumbled under life's pressure and here you lie:
the rope tightened until your soul burst.
your heart victim to the bullets that dented it past the point of recognition.
your mind spun circles until dizziness knocked it out of place.
your machine broke down by the erosion the flood caused.

at least it doesn't hurt anymore.