Shades of yellow cast on our dreams
Skin burning through layers of sunscreen
When gifts of foresight weigh on our beings
Let great powers grow evermore carefree

To satisfy eternity.

Empirical evidence against the empire’s truth
Makes humankind akin to a neurotic fool
Who comes to think that it’ll always nullify
Oh for we all must die!

Young and old both playing their games
Seduced by the baits of short-term gains
Unable to afford the bail out of prison
Wait for great powers to relieve this addiction

To satisfy eternity.

Spawns of decadence in the wake of our new tools
Let us deter suicide with the poisons that soothe
They all say everything will fall, to act seems futile
Oh for we all shall die!

Whether in shame or in desire
Must we forget all we’ve acquired
For yesterday’s pride, tomorrow’s glory
Shake hands with friends and slain the enemy

To satisfy eternity.

I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever be satisfied in my life time
But until then
I will keep writing

You'd think I'd have more to say
2 years and I still find a way
To bite my tongue and still feel numb
But yet, I've become a pawn.

I stuck myself to your word
Like a struggling flightless bird
And I make excuses for all my muses
But maybe, I've broken a mirror.

Maybe I've truly been cursed
Then wouldn't it be worse?
You've clung to me while I've tried to flee
But I feel nothing but regret.

You've always callsd me a nuisance
And I still choke on your nooses
Constantly on edge while you're by the ledge
But you're living in your own shadow...

Beauty, i've realized, is not confined to one singular moment
Nor one singular place.
Not one precious moment in time but perhaps a web of them.
It's intrinsic to nature.
Confounded through and possibly limited by the dullness of people.
We need too much.
We desire emptily.
We set definitions leaving little space for the outlier.
But beauty, in its purest form, is the outlier--a great composition of them.
For what we set our eyes forth to blatantly, routinely, and  mundanely is often the most beautiful, masked by our innate desire for novelty.

Would you like it if I cried?
Would that make it more real to you?
Would you like it if I died?
Would that make my feelings true?

Would you make me go and hide?
Would that finally impress you?
Would you eat up all my pride?
Would that satisfy you?

That's how you'd like it.
That's how you'd like it, isn't it?

That's how I'd like it.

Baby,
I'm like a piñata
You have to hit me
In the right spot,
With enough force
To be rewarded
With my sweet