Traveling through an ocean-like space
I'm breaking like the waves
I arrive and crush on your shores
crawl into each and every pore
I dissolve into foam
which follows a storm
The storm becomes me
I rage over rock and tree
Devastation as I take
make room for renewal and remake

I brush away home and town
these empty houses, I tear them down
no place left to hide for the hunger
shall these demons come so I can pull them under
Make them eat the dirt they keep feeding to you and me
I will make them swallow and suffocate their glee
And when darkness comes I will be thunder
lightening the sky and breaking it asunder
And through this opening you will descend
everything that has been broken you can mend

Don't despair, love, take pride in me
The force of nature you clearly see
Believe in this inner symbiosis
Create your own apotheosis
Everything is well
Even in these dark times in which you dwell
This nature will never leave you
nor will it ever betray what is true
See through the eyes of your keeper
even when you think you can't sink deeper

What you are you shall hold dear
and walk this blackness without fear
Whatever wounds you carry away from this tourney
it's worth every step of this journey
Fight until your blood runs dry
pick up your worth again and again until you die
no need to run, no need to hurry
believe in your nature and don't worry
Sleep will come eventually
until then rage against life's brevity

You stand unbowed and unbroken by your ache
and leave life in your wake

Lighthouse shine a light for me
in these dark times it is hard to see
will you shine a light so I might be
(some day)
found

Meaning got lost in the rubble
trust has only brought me trouble
People hiding inside their bubble
(seems like we are all)
bound

Fires would you burn
I got lost after taking the last turn
what is there to find, what is to learn
(we feel like being, being)
drowned

Please, show me a way
it is hard to go, so much harder to stay
I walk, I halt, I run, I stray
(everything's loud but I make no)
sound

Lighthouse, my castle of warmth
how I miss your steady arms
and your happy, glowing charms
(how is seeing you in the distance so)
profound

Like ancient kings and queens
of a wisdom that redeems
though never knowing what it all really means
(in uncertainty, lonely, in melancholy once again)
crowned

I have finally come to the conclusion,
that I do not love myself.
that I don't love the way i smile,
or talk,
or laugh.

I hate that I am quite,
that I'm introverted and
would rather prefer to spend my days alone,
rather than surrounded by people.

I'm trying to improve how I view myself,
however, how do you change your perspective
when you have been living it for years?

Part 1 Down the Rabbit Hole:

He had faith in exceptions
He was optimistic
He “believed in six impossible things just before breakfast”
and had his cake.
He mused of the bunny farm
and fought the jabberwocky in his dreams.
These things failed him.
He woke up, and was crushed with the mice
In a snap of revelation
and
Under the weight of truth.
He was shattered, along with the coral corpses
Of the paperweight

Part 2 The Paper Weight:

A coral in the glass paperweight
A hummingbird shielded by twigs
The fragile illusion
A naive illusion
“The beautiful illusion”
Quoth Marlow, our dear friend Charlie.
Through the looking glass
His world, the Poet’s world,
was shattered,
Not by “a sea of trouble”
Nor by words of a mature revelation
but by Silence.

Part 3 The Horror, The Horror:

The wrath and sorrow of the composers
Were expressed
In the requiem of silence.
The conductor threw his hand open
In the final flight of the dove
For the poet, the dreamer,
Who, and whose ballads and odes
Were silenced on the battlefronts of the nouveau era.
No one followed when he chased the seagulls.
No one answered his pleads and screams of wrath and sorrow.
In the end, there was only silence
For the poet, and his poetry.
To this he whispered:
“The Horror, the Horror”
And then
Nothing more.