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I make myself so happy for no reason then stick my own back,
melancholic acts of treason, cut and measure my own lesions;
a line between pleasure and pleasing.
Not an pessimist nor a type of optimist but a realist who has mastered the execution of delusion and illusion.
Oxymoronic, Guess I'm just human;

Apparently the semblance of a god,
so making something from nothing isn't odd,
but I was given everything from a soul to my bones, hair to my toes;
Even to me who stays in this, sinew and ivory, home the reason is unknown but I know the weight of this form has its toll.

Ties made are rarly cut
more than the material is used,
bonds spirt imbued,
that which feeds hate and love.
My soul is the ocean my form the soil my mind the heavens so it's wisdom guides the toil.
What I put on to my body will seep to the sea, be it poisons or ointments that is to be seen, my wish for foresight seems obscene,
a noxious tint colors the scene
Ah this is but a show, how else can I explain the tragedies sown.

Who wrote this play?
No
Who paid its commission,
who conscripted us to suffer, no need for permission, no fine print played off as a simple omission?
Actors with no access to backstage
so it is do or die,
freedom in a cage,
the 4th wall blocks our eyes.
we get no reactions for our performance
no real feedback,
so we face our troupe like opponents, for no real reason.
Whilst some seem to flourish in a limelight others perish in darkness
some disappear through trap doors others fly with out harness.

seasoned thespians sometimes show us a way; how to perform our parts, from when they entered the play.
We are told there is a script, so I would say some have forgotten thier lines
but honestly the script has never passed these eyes,
all I know is that somes voices are drowned out by the soundtracks of anxiety and sadness;
The polyrhythms of fear and deafening sound of loneliness and madness
How could the director have this?

That's the purpose of a tragedy; make the watcher feel like they are living lavishly.

Wanted a reason why I find it so tragic.

In the words of Life 'There, you have it.'
Slam tracscribed. I've been reading some tragedies and re-realized that fact can be truly worse than fiction
Sol oh paniter of visions, curator of those under your light. Your passion is easily confused with fury and your momentary absences are known to be a time of danger and chaos
Basting the blessed and decimateing the ******,a infernal bliss.
General of the soil, those born from it follow your call under you they toil. maestro of the bloom and birds their harmonious notes in the air ,smelled and heard, from the plains to the berg but at the coast is when that celestial sovereignty ends.

Enters,a vision, Oh Luna; soft yellow dipped and dyed in the honeied hues of the horizon or a radiant alabaster, stark and chilled. cut from the heavens, apart of the city resting on that which scratches the sky but only visitors in the sights, you Nobly looking over. Teach me as you are, not as they say ,cold but ever observing seen every day.
You the Choreographer of the waves they dance by your direction, beautifully and brutishly birthing rainbows from their violate bombardments, for the birth of Brilliant ideas they have been the midwife.we lose and find ourselves in your teachings

Raising higher as you we age, as one should, on the path of the sage.
Stayed by the sea for a few days and got to know sun and moon a little better
Time flies, you are lost.‬
Time flies when you are driven.‬
Time flies, regardless‬.
Life goes on
Old debts have been paid
Love has subsidized the pain.
Heart; open for trade.
An affirmation and a plan
A student of the crowded breeze.
On a whim Raise like the dandelions' seed,
Vibrantly dissent like, in fall, trees' leaves.
An apostle of purpose beyond what one sees for the unknown is nothing and possibility.

Our lessons are on the topic of practical whimsy, in their way; the wind that cools your face also fans a flame and guides the rain.
The Sensei go by many names, I know them from the roles they play:

Boreas shepherds my turmoil,
A tempest;
senseless, cold and violent as if without vision only vengeance.

Notus shows my passion;
A gust to an ember on dry land,
Unreasonable, unpredictable and destructive without a plan.

Zephyr entices my love;
A subtle intimate current for dance,
The beauty of birds and bees flying from flower to flower and branch to branch.

Eurus reflects my way;
A flurry that moves the sand.
The removal of sediment,
the return to foundation born from action mixed with patience.

They can only guide me
I can ride the winds of the odyssey or resign to the winds of dreams
but I know
I Am
A student of the breeze.
Boreas- the north wind in Greek mythology associated with the storms
zephyr- the west wind associated with spring
Notus- the south wind associated with crop destruction (end of autumn)
Eurus-the east wind the associated with opposing Noctus and autum bounty

looking for a new muse to learn new things about myself through someone true to themselves
This is a new page.
Empty;Deep Love and woes fill;
The former is me?
Fresh start same games but different play that is the sentiment don't want to say anymore
A love that will rip it's self apart if not told whats enough,
end up doing too much but better that then us losing touch. I believed but now
I know, I hoped to bare the weather, prideful, no idea what was is tow: rain,sleep and snow.

A love that was free, turned selfish, my minds on you and I can't help it.
Inhliziyo I have no faith but patience and loyalty so your silence can only annoy me; but when you tell me what's good I make you laugh like a jester and I treat you like royalty.

Funny because now I was feeling like booboo the fool. I need rest, You Just look on when
I sing my song are you deaf-

-silence-

wait This can't be true.
This can't be you

-No wait-

this isn't me, been blaming you a lot recently. we haven't been on the same frequency, We're  always up and down, that's a sine.
I need to disconnect and clear my mind.
haven't had time to meditate, now that's a lie.
I always meditate when I'm silent, write or rhyme.

I do this a lot, darkened visions from the burns and cuts I got, know your not one but I've taken a hit more than once,it wasn't fun, but It had to be done.
You are worth it, a crown but I can't make it right now.
I want to grow with you; Like a tree bares fruits not only flowers, fickle,it looks beautiful, only, in daylight hours.

Let me be wise so I can handle instability,
I learn more about myself for my own sanity.
I had let my light dim not dealing with every thing that life brings.
I had a love for you that was starving because I wasn't truly loving my self enough, that was toxic like lead but now I'm clutch.

No need to write in a rush, but know
I'm sending love
Had time to think whilst not distracting myself with her glow whilst we grow(up). Planning on making this a song
The title is a play on the  words it can be read as :decent love as in the ideal Of Love, dissent Love as in toxic relationship hurting each other over misunderstandings in my case Or the sent  love meaning me reaching out

In my 'trip' series
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