When you meet for the last time
No one knows
It will be the final one

Some are introduced
To revenge
Then, are they not an eponymous fool?
By war or vendetta
Brothers
Sister
By blood or tree
...
Revenge cares not for thee

Separation
Often cares for the object
Of pain and nostalgia

Behind that splendid plain
Ice, piled high
A midnight sun, resting on top
Like a silhouetted candle
It may be cold
But it has never been so inviting.

Looming over objects
Coming into view
It was once buried deep
And dies once referred to
But today, it was found
Unearthed near a shallow basin
What is it?
A secret.

Falling down
With no floor
To carry me
When will I come down?
And

M
a
k
e

i   m     p     a   c   t
------------------------

Awaiting an answer
Keen anticipation
Founded in curiosity
Yet when the answer is known
It is not the truth
But someone else's truth
...
What has happened?

Colonial customs
Have not evolved
For we put stock on community
Without bearing witness
To communion

Driving south
A carefree pilgrimage
Thousands do it
Such freedom
Such pleasure
No goal in sight
But to leave behind
A world turned to stone

Everywhere I go
There's always something to remind me
Of another time
One where happiness bloomed in a cycle
Now it goes where the willows lay
One day, fine
Another day, struck down

Pressure is direct
Both by influence and force
So, these adolescent tendencies
Become susceptible to industry

Lakeside view
Frozen over by a layer of ice
A blanket of fog
Dancing with the air
It is cold, yet...
Is that a bad thing?

A wonderful wonderland
Colossal depth
A center of wonders
When we learn how they work
The magic is drained.

Killing each other
Requires the prerequisite
Of killing our selves

Paradise
Like succumbing to a spell
Touring heaven

Later years
Could be happy
Could give up
Could rest
Could be productive
When that time comes
Invest in peace and security.

Birth of revolutions
Develops internally
Used to start with steel
Now, it starts with discourse

Skillfully
Looks are lovelier
With dazzling humanity

Doomsday predictions
All the possibilities are fiction
Yet I fear for the day
When one rings true

Conceptual conspiracies
Originate with hate and distrust
For when something is important
No coincidence, a planned event
No accidents, a coordinated fight
Once something lives in mystery
It will forever be tied to history
As a legacy

The more things change
The more they stay the same
Just a coat of paint
On the same outdated structure

Locations crafted by humanity
Fit one time
One function
Hence why we get uncomfortable
At a quiet school
An empty mall
If it's the exact same-
Why does it make us feel small?

Hope
Despair
Both apples
Fallen from the same tree

In a world
Full of darkness
The light has abandoned us
It's up to ourselves
To make a new light
Artificial, but functional

The more a problem is pointed out
A greater divide occurs
For the way to prevent injustice
Is action, not words

For some
It is easier to suffer silently
As opposed
To being ridiculed
By persistently fake positive tendencies

Once you ask for advice
And get no answer
It is silent guidance
Filtered by experience

Red
White
Blue
Starry night on a canvas
What does it mean?
I once knew, now
I no longer know.

To live is to suffer
But the more we do
The less we want to

A year ends, once again
Bad things occurred
But why blame the year?
It would've happened no matter the number
Because, we made up that number.

Perfection depends on perspective
So why waste time
Chasing after inconsistencies?

The fool
Believes he is right
While the genius
Knows he could be wrong

Strong eat the weak
But for parasites
The weak become a part of the strong

To one person
Good may be bad
To another
Bad may be good
But what is the difference?
In reality:
They never truly existed

People love to give advice
Yet never follow their own wisdom

Faster innovation
Leaves more left behind
How long until the future
Leaves me?

Idolizing a person
Will not heal a fractured heart
It will only remain
Broken, unrefined

If everything is subjective
Why do we argue
When none of us right?

Lost our heart
Lost our spark
What we lose today
Resides in the dark

A daily mantra:
Talk is cheap, actions speak louder
Why do we trust product marketing
If talk is all they can afford?

The greatest tragedies come from
The shortcomings of society

People in power
Will want more power
For they are afraid
Of losing all their power.

If only I knew
How bad things would get
Then I'd appreciate
Every second of my past

The angels present themselves
Roaming throughout the earth
Shunning evil
Flocks and herds
Who escaped
To warn those they cannot save

A picturesque visage
Defiantly cut off
From wilderness
In custody, to future generations

Twisted, contorted, distorted
Familiar visages
Hidden in strange scenery
Always drawing clocks--
Using time to draw time

Regulation prohibits fact
Precipitated by punishment
Concluding with tolerance

The community leaders
Heads of the clans
Shine toward peace
Yet, they cast a shadow
Anointed with power

fading
faster
happy memories
pushed out
in favor of lesser replacements
is this what it means to live?

Sons of the priest
Wash water
To burn it all on the altar
Every offering, pleasing
Crumbled, into essence