Gentle Vacation

Temptations resist humble regret
Transitions request humble lapses of memory
Translations require humble empathy
As fellows shake hands with calm understanding
      the passage to salvation wears thin
Dreams harpoon themselves to mysterious tears
Streams flow through mysterious entrances
We’ve perverted our destiny
We’ve averted our dominance
Cancel frustration
Illuminate our peaceful demonstration
Pressure exerts itself from every orifice

Cold Sweats

There was a deep regret present upon her eyes.
They begged upon the riddles of human nature.
I found myself weeping in her presence,
pondering the riddles of her behavior.

There was much deliberation,
much contemplation,
much hesitation.

A quiet storm bubbling before the surface.

Prophecies are seldom fulfilled,
So why is it that I sense destiny within her aura?
I am left to work out that enigma on my own.

As waves crash,
hearts clash.
As skies turn,
love burns.

Repetition is a concept that I am well versed in.

Pristinity

I feel the warm forgotten abandon
      calming the space between restless outbursts.
As games define hostility
      humor so to defines deep-rooted aggression.

Swimming through grime, I taste lessons of hygiene.
My whispers step through solid echoes.

Have the voyages brought newfound fear?
Or has the progression unearthed glimpses of reality?

My legs merely supplement a shiny pair of wings,
      and I plan to soar beyond the chaos.
I see delusion trapped in human form,
      as it dances in predestined fashion.
There are illusions which capture the surrounding environment,
      and persuasions of the outstretched mind found in humble behavior.

Allow this gentle farewell,
      for my time is best served elsewhere.

Fountains

Long-lost desperation
Howling beneath relentless abandon.
Withering before dawn,
the burden of a fresh ray of light vibrates unmercifully.
Gratitude shares an envious smirk
      while neighbors reap shallow acquaintances.

Cause harm to the unborn,
for it exists as the only soul without guilt.

Morphing mentality
Morphing malcontent
Morphing modesty
Morphing mediocrity

Prison considers bars to be a torment.
While some declare that bars pervert reality,
and restrain passion,
and overload instinct.

Hollow Desperation

I got no one to call my own,
I got no room atop my throne.
Though all the prospects scream and moan,
Their feelings drift and tend to roam.

My life has been a waste of time.
I focus on another rhyme.
I have no faith in the divine,
My answers portray a broken mind.

I’m not depressed, I just stay real,
And focus on the pain I feel.
I’d rather love than eat a meal.
Only compassion turns my wheels.

Confined to Reality

There has been a deep awakening,
A forbidden passage through dark resistance,
A close encounter with distasteful grasps of the mind,
And a howling whisper of shattered dreams.

There will always be an escape,
A cool sensation facing your head as you rest,
A vibrato of rhythm abound in natural enigmas,
Or a passage into a separate identity.

Fanciful illusions prance before madness,
As rational illusions dilute spiritual integrity.

Call me a zealot, a heathen, a prophet of doom,
Prevent my war of justice to spread your sonic boom.
While danger finds a victory in each and every room,
On top of every mountain, there rests a shiny spoon.

Our voyage has been a long and vengeful one,
We’ve swept the floor of common good.
Desperation stings,
And the sounds of anguish spread a long lasting echo.
Prayers have remained unanswered,
Diseases uncured,
And famine persists in expansion.

I beg these dreams to run with haste,
For fear of losing the world beyond.

The Downside

As long winding highways near peaceful meadows,
I find a sensation inline with the fellows.
While whispers speak softly upon shattered eyes,
I collapse with the sinners, piercing their cries.
When doors that slam shut hold wonders inside,
I look for the key, and don’t go for the ride.
Where people find answers to stiffle their meaning,
I seek the top of the top, and let no in-between in.
During violent betrayals of our human power,
I want a break from tradition, hour by hour.