The internet, what a glorious invention
Used in part, to do:
Research
Science
Playful activities
Engage in social discourse
Send threats
Wish hateful things
Generate chaos
Conduct illicit business
Anonymous discrimination
Videos of disintegration
All, in the comfort of home
It has come this far
Perhaps, it has come too far

Everyone
Wants to talk about change
Yet, no one ever wants
To embody it

Knocking at the exit...
Can't see it.
I gotta find my old opulence
Maybe, the exit was always here
But, my eyes
Chose to ignore it

Feet on the air
Windsurfing on tranquility
Worrisome, no more
Travesties belong to another day
I may care, but only for so long
All things must recharge
Why treat ourselves differently?

Philistine
Individual went extreme
They don't want to be seen
The only comfort comes from the moonlight
Why?
It always sees.

Rushing
Toward the light in the tunnel
Wondering, what will I receive?
Will I be reborn through scorn?
Or does the journey end here?
I've risen from the bottom
Up to the top
I'm at the peak
I don't know how to stop.

In our modern world
We cannot bask in emotions
Deemed uncomfortable
No wonder
Nothing is taken earnestly
Even clowns
Know when jokes stop
Now look at us:
We have become one

Discussing philosophies
Brings out antiquities
So, when discussing those who believe
That their belief means nothing
Do not discuss their way
But how they came to it

Just because
We adapt to any environment
Never means
We are satisfied with it

Starving
For a missing piece
To become at peace
We must find what we seek

Over each bunk
The sun flooded in
Onto the floor, quickly
The playing cards, folded
The walls, weathered
Inside and out, painted
A palette of an evening day
In collaboration with a falling sun
How fitting, for the last day

Determination
Breaking new ground
To now, tolerating mundanity
Determining the loss of it all
The meaning didn't slip up, instead
It.
Fell.
Down.

Alpha, omega
Beginning, end
All tune in for them
While cutting out the middle

Letters, punctuation, capitalization
It all means something to someone
But to me
It's just the norm
What it is to be expected
Expect no change, galore
No matter how much you say it matters
Matter can only matter
If the matter matters
Back to the daily norm
Now we'll forget this ever happened
And pretend we are built for something more

It's hard to ruin
Something you enjoy
Until someone else comes along
Turning joy, to quick decay
Watching as the allure fades away
To grey

Climbing up a mountain
Reaching the peak
Of success
Exhilarating and envigorating
But, once the mission is complete
What comes next? Another one.
Success is a wheel that runs off of desire
So when it stops turning, what comes next?

Stressed
The resources are inadequate
Little did I know
They are all that remains

Upon returning home
The cobblestone greeted me
But, every brick
Every layer
Turned from hollow and grey
To flesh-ridden, staring eyes
Looking with interest
Wondering where they were
I would say, mere curiosity
But these eyes
Looked upon me
With shame

It was an accident
He forgave me for it
So, why does my mind...
Harbor a grudge?

From birth
I was given immortality
Never able to die, unless defied
By traumatic injury, to my earthly form

It gets lonely, staying so long
I've discovered lands, traveled across seas
But when it goes indefinitely
Achievements go from celebratory  
To mandatory

All things have an end
I only wish
That I could have one.

Inadequate quality
Leads to faults
If only the mind was treated
Like a factory line
Then blind disregard
Would lead to opened eyes

Old heroes
Come into view
So too, does harsh reality
Age comes experience
Of which, they can no longer use

Misadventures
Fun to laugh at
Horrible to engage in
Chuckling at misfortune
Yet no one else can see it
Sad sacks bring back hacks
Fame off of misfortune
No wonder we're cold
Our hearts have become strongholds

Luchadore
Actor
Entertainer
All live out life in masks
To give blind entertainment
But when the veil becomes you
Surrender to the mass
For when it starts to slip
Ego trip ends, judgment begins

Irritation and demand
Two core characteristics
Of a citizen
Turned criminal
Yet, we all are like this
The only separation
Comes in the methodology, the execution
The very same concept
Directed by a violent excursion
Cause when backed against a wall
The only way forward is force

Impressionable minds
Latch onto broken ideologies
When the ship sinks
The captain escapes, on their backs

My foot
Was caught on a dream
For I had built a palace
Much like my dream palace
Yet, it looked nothing like it.
The unending freedom of imagination
Came crashing down
Giving birth to dismay

At first, I was shocked
Now I am old, it is the standard.

The end of the world:
By alien invasion
By viral outbreaks
By global war

We entertain the hypotheticals
While the real cause
Remains unchanged

At the end of time
We shall continue to bicker
Remaining fickle
The sun rises then sets
Everything, a beginning, and an end
Our final act is coming soon
But instead of a theater
It is near you

One day, I took a vacation
Tired of the suffering
Stress
And hysteria
So, I traveled across the world
To a country, filled with hopes
Upon arriving, I saw:
Suffering
Stress
And hysteria...
...
I no longer take vacations
For the view was good
But the atmosphere, a façade.

Intense enjoyment
Blocks out reality
After years of such
Here we are now.

When I was a boy
I wanted to be a cowboy
Holding fate in my hands
Alongside a revolver
Filled with instruments of destruction
But now, I am no longer a boy
For the only way to be a cowboy
Is to be a boy
And never grow up.

To **** the past
Is to never learn from it
How can we **** the past
When our future is already dying?

Growing old
Growing up
To notice the difference, say "shut up"
Then witness the path
They have embraced

Remaining static
Leads to stagnation
Remaining overactive
Leads to burnout
With all things in life
Balance avoids decay
Turning stagnation
Into administration

My friends
Think of death as not an omen
Perceive it as what it truly is:
Natural
Change can bring terror
Sometimes, laughter
But death is change with no transparent effect
It is like all change
Why do we fear it?
Because we can not control it.
But, is that so bad?

The dreary weather
Pounding against the windows
Entirely impractical-
The windows I have: entirely imaginary
My train is due to come
A stowaway, I am.
The only soother for my wayward will

The most dangerous person
Doesn't wield a gun
Brandish a sword
Or **** back his fists
But someone who displays
Excitement, mixed with nostalgia
On one hand, a turnaround
On another hand, a catastrophe

The ignorant
Want to live forever
The public
Want to keep living
The wise
Never wanted to live

Down below
Entrenched in a trench
Of barnacles, sea cucumbers
Denizens of moist seas
Lies a single figure
In the form of a statue
The symbol of a man, looking toward the sky
Hopeful expression, rusted by nature
An idealist at rock bottom, lying to himself, in wake

Members of death
A deathbed loses its sting
Once death takes over
Maybe, you sought not for death
But for rest
Yet, you still seek death
For once your rest ends, frantic life remains
Permanent rest, sweet in nature
But once it take hold, a bitter center

If I became
The king of the universe
Would I care for those who reside in it?
All power, all in my palm
Able to reset everything, to dust...
...
If I had a family
Would I care for them?
If I had a son...
Would I want him to live?
If I had a loved one...
Would I care for their single ounce of affection?
If I had anyone...
Would they care about me?
Can I have a typical life...
If I know the reality of it?

Stars, planets, asteroids, comets
All know their place
So, why am I the stranger...
Amidst a crowd of friendly faces?

I honor the beach
Yet abhor the heat
Could it be, personal preference?
Or no longer, enjoying warmth?

A creator
Must have a drive
An optimistic outlook, one who strives:

To change
To evolve
To fix

But much like fire
A creator can create, or effectively destroy

No matter the delusion
There will be those who

Die for it
Sacrifice for it
Hope for it

We all have delusions
Some are aware of them
Others never correct them
Above all else:
The ancient art of trickery
Ceases to end, bitter, like chicory

Radiant, cool eyes
Freezing surfaces
With a single glance
Petrification, at an instant
The desire to bond, constant
Not possible, mutant

The child--
Believes in extremes
The adolescent--
Changes on a whim
The adult--
Understands the truth
The senior--
Has neither time nor energy to change it

If only they communed
With one another

Ruination comes not from exterior forces
But interior quarrels

A man with a grey wardrobe
Found himself in a void
Neverending
Ever-present
In front of his person, a mirror appeared
An image manifested, a child appeared
He knew what this was, so the truth appeared:
"When I was a child, I had time, but no resources."
His reflection appeared in the mirror
"As an adult, I have resources, but no time."
A photo of an old man in a living room appeared
"When I become an elder, I will have wisdom, but no one to teach."
A photo of an extensive graveyard appeared
"When I pass, I will have a legacy, but no one to remember it."

Dancing in the street
The unkempt, unruly man
His personal parade, of song and dance
Does his music
Sound like ours?

The man woke up
Looked toward his reflection
In his vision
Was a human, with a beetle's head
His wife of several weeks
Unleashed a gasp
"Why has this happened?"
The man replied
"I have become Insecta, my true self, a pest."

I could change it
But I am one man
A group could change it
But they would be silenced
A generation could change it
But they are part of the system
Humanity could change it
But they are unaware of the problems
Someone could change it
But do they exist?