The feeling is so hidden away.
Protected shrunk down reduced in size to within straight lines traced with fingers into a tiny box.
Ninety degrees.
V = a2h
Thrown through a dimension door into another place far away tucked underneath earth and grass and kept quiet by flowing water.
You are connected to it so well it is simply a part of you.
A very small part that is very large.
sshhh
Don't tell them that.
Your secret is safe with me.

A man uses his hands to tell a story.
A tall man in a suit walks by.
And on this side of the glass, with Mumford strolling through the air, the glare from the sun reflecting off of the cars parked in the street is just...

enough to obscure the details of the faces across the room.
And the coffee is good, as always.

A red bandeau and blue flannel.

Whether you're searching or not,
when you find, stumble upon, trip over that moment
That creaky stairstep,
that mug that fits your hand perfectly,
that note you can't help but play once you've found it,
that shooting star
Whatever creates that serotonin, that dopamine,
that norepinephrine

What do you do about it?

What eats up your sadness?

Other people's?

A circle of salt and a smug expression.

"Not today bro!"

bloop

"Necromance if you want to, you can bring your friends to life!"

Cheers.

"There is more than what you perceive, this isn't my first life you see. The darkest part of a distant place, the deepest fathoms in a lightless space? No, child, there is no abyss...

No nothingness.

It all exists to move."

I am a little shadow creeping in the night
I am the one to take away light
When you hear me clawing at your bedroom door
Your heart will be mine forever more

Stand me up in front of what I want for you and me
And I dance, dance through to what could be
Tell me they speak my name
Tell you I don't believe in ghosts
The serious lack of guts killed all the flattery
So I stick to where I stand
And to me no one is more deserving
But
Then you pressed the button and I collapsed
Like a push puppet

I figure that a lot of people feel like they live in a world that is collapsing, or getting worse, or is full of evil.
All current world problems aside, a vast number of human beings live a similar life: wake up in the morning, go to work or whatever, go home, go to bed, and repeat. There will always be something that will happen during the day that will bring out a reaction in them or make them think. That's life, perspectives change sometimes. But in the end, their life doesn't change much. They're just reaping what they've sown is all. And life goes on. Calenders are still being printed on paper. Polar caps and icebergs are still melting. And people are still fighting.

   When you see or hear something that makes you feel like ****, just do your best to remember that there is extraordinarily good tea to drink out there; and that mother earth has seen loads of **** that would make people feel like jumping but it's still there for you. You can still stand in the sun, listen to the rain, make footprints in the sand, and walk amongst trees.

Today.

So, just do your best really. Plant some flowers or something.

Tonight their reflections in the window look more real than what's in the room
The students study for a life that's in front of me and the old ones reap what they have sown
We live on keys and coffee and electricity
Tonight people are all about, but one soft voice spoke louder than the crowd
I approach with a smile and hello, I like the scarf around her neck and her purple dress, this is not a test
As it goes we see the similar shades in each other's colors, like the art hanging all around us, I'll be there if you will and she says the same
I can't contain my smile at the twinkle in her eyes

My drink is cold going down as I sit back and admire how it all works out in the window

You've got the wingspan of someone who never touches ground
Nothing ever downs what you've got going for you
You have got depth that I cannot fathom
How do you walk the road less traveled
What do you have that keeps your head up
Why does it look so easy from here
Whatever you have
I can't find it
It seems that each of your waking moments are the beginnings of even better days
Chain me to the rocks so that I may better see how to live like you
Blindfold my eyes so I can hear how you walk on
Muffle my ears so I can learn how to move on.

If you stay true to yourself (meaning always strive to be the best that you can be), then the nature of things will run its course in reflection.
There will always be bumps in the road, but it's where you're going that matters. Be the essence of yourself and seeds will be planted. The wind will blow.
Clouds will bring rain, and you will grow.

The cold dissonance formed like the frost on a leaf of late October - It's the way it crumbled.
They believed in what they were subject to
like not conveying feelings is in fashion
I tell you its a flawless fall
Thus closes the locket shaped like love that held it all side by side, a thousand words less.
And you flash your teeth as a smile unzips across your face, gaze at your reflection and all you see is an endless maze.
We have reached the point of no return, you have no choice but to embrace the gathering dark.
The currency is forgiveness but our pockets are empty.
You think that dying alone is inevitable and the "antihero" of our hearts never gets the girl.
But it doesn't have to be that way just for the sake of poetry. Drop the broken sword.
Indelible feelings brought us to the table, a setting of conjecture and dying settlements. The question is "Who deserves peace?"
Pick up the pen and write your name.

Horripilation
A quickly pacing heart
Mind orbiting the concept
In circles, a work of abstract art

There is difficulty in executing movement
When all these things appear
Over my shoulder, edge of eyesight
Whispers in my ear

Rip out the claws that hold me in my seat
To walk over and say "Hello"
There would be no greater feat
That day
And then
I feel

That the lonliness would die
When
I
Fall into your eyes

Penguins waddle.

Camels spit.

Aardvarks burrow.

And bovines ****.

Two steps and you're into the room and onto the stage - who will be the hero and who will be the villain today?

And the watcher sits with a set pen while another ghoul moves in his general direction

(I'm sorry but your persona can only be understood by something specific based on its projection - a slight cringe and an eye twitch)

And the drinks were fifteen minutes late - thus comes the fate of all fools, to get caught up in a moment with a villain you want to **** and what's the catch?

"I'll swallow your soul!"

In the time it takes to form an opinion the watcher became a writer and a warrior - before the coffee was ready

He tipped with the blood and ichor of his foe (whoever closes will be underpaid tonight), he set his gore-stained pen on his notebook and took in the room and all within

Ready for the next day

The Black Throne, made of stone are the walls around it. Bleak, dark, turn-your-thoughts-inward air about it.
The Black Throne, in no tome can you find a word of it. It's history is gone with those who knew.
The Black Throne, followed to the death, one alone to give command. Company within, company without. Til the final breath.

To who, a seat, or more?

The Black Throne.

Dead hearts
Live hopes
Hand over your soul
Hark, now begins the eternal toll
Find a place to rest your head
You belong to the Kingdom of The Dead