InspiredByLight

The Blood, sweat, and tears All of the pain I've suffered Throughout these years; Congratulates me on my boldness. Not forsaking me, but promising me, that all of the terrors and my sadness Will save me in the end. But how am I saved? when I've been so destitute, Calamity follows me like the earth to the sun unbending, algorithmic in its epiphany And I'm trapped in this rhythmic monstrosity gravity has taken me under its overbearing wings and the weight of the world rests on my shoulders; how shall I ever be saved? How I long to see the fire as fire not the means of demise flowers as flowers not funeral sentiments in disguise people a

234 girls were taken from receiving education. Now they are forced into unwanted stations. Ignorance, and jealousy rules the fools. Sense and knowledge will destroy the ghouls.

Happy is he, the man with a rose. Blooming deep red, with an ambient glow. Loving is he, the man with a rose. The aroma lifting him off his toes. Excited is he, the man with a rose. Giving it to his love, and his feelings, she knows. Startled is he, the man with a rose. Waking from a dream. He froze. Bleak is he, the man with a rose. Flower, six feet under, it goes.

I woke up with yesterday in my head. I think I had a dream about all my old friends. Somehow, I don't want to forget. And there's a me I need to meet, but I'm not ready yet. If there had been fire, or a soul to exchange, or I'd given my life for that of a stranger, But in the end I just took a fall In a wild, last hope of saving it all. And now I'm here, but it's not quite me. I forgot how to count to three. But I know one day I'll rebuild my memory, And when I fly away, will you come with me?

 Poet's Kingdom The poet overthrew the monarch Now words will rule, and ink-stained hands And whispered rhymes over loud commands. Faith in Humanity I deny the existence of the holy spirit; Lightning strike me down. You pray as if someone will hear it, Some man with a beard and a crown. Run No time to think As I run towards the end This is our last drink So here's to life my new friend. Past Tense Nothing is in the past tense; The past won't set me free. Not 'I loved', but 'I love' the thing that's lost The thing that won't let me be. You Are Nothing You are lost in a vacuum, lost in a void Whatever you had was long ago destroyed. And n

Burning sun through a telescope, Dancing man on a length of rope. Wild and lonely as a firefly - You are a thought that will never die.

If you let me I'll tell you a story Of the places I have been. I can relive the glory Of the things that I have seen. I can speak of railroad tracks And hard ground going everywhere. Hot, flat cola and store-bought snacks In the heavy, languid air. And I can speak of architecture That belongs in wild dreams. Detail like a studious lecture The shrouded ruins of lost regimes. Let me take you from this place To somewhere far more grand. With a word we can retrace The grandest, simplest wonders of land.

This is a grand land to take our last stand Shade your eyes, and hold my hand. We were a long song, and now we'll be strong, Take comfort in the fact that we were not wrong. I had some great, late thoughts on our fate But as with all endings we only have to wait.

 If I was all alone in a darkened room I'd be no more alone than I am with you. A mask and a good costume, That's all it takes to hide what's true. And you stand there and lie with such good grace As if not aware that I know what's real. I can read what's on your face, But there's nothing there to reveal. So blank, so distant, and so cold; Papier-mâché face, lost to reality. You're just a projection of the lies you've told In the guise of prudent neutrality.

Muggy glass, stained ozone dust Carries me deep into a world In which Light freely snacks on Darkness While Darkness dines upon Light    or so Sunrise and Sunset say The Zephyrs whisk vanilla cotton candy Into their Columbia-blue icy draft above Which sweeps and dances maddeningly And taunts the chimeras for being    as slow as the human dimension Effervescent streams of laughing youth Beg oh-so-sweetly for a swim within their currents The willows chuckle, and I can almost forget Those sheer, precipitous cliff walls, barely visible    which still await, obscure and unrelenting. We dream Chromatic acid and butter dreams Yet we construct