The last knight had died ungallantly
He folded in a disappointed silence
As did the age he stood for.
So long to the bygone era.

The romanticism of a stoic ideal
Remained to mark his passing,
Like an obituary in the paper
That people glance at for a brief moment
Before continueing with the idleness of their day.

The muddied sky of an industrial world
Stretched over a land like a blanket of shame
To destroy the traditions of a knight
Who once fought for the people who turned to destroy him.

I learned how to draw dragons in 3rd grade.
I did so compulsively, and voraciously because it was therapeutic.
But they loathed me, and inherited no majesty from whom they were made.
Though I loved them. And I empathyzed with what they would never be.
Because what if my creator had no plans for me.

Girl that sits on the other side of math
You're **** pretty,
And when I see you I want to say more than just "Hi"
But we're to different people, you and I.

I can tell you think I'm kinda cute
But if you recognized who I was,
You'd know why I stay mute.
Though sometimes I still want to ask, if you'll come to my place and do math homework.

Students set your course
Sail through these days with no remorse.
And fill your life with love and pleasure
Let your ambitions have no measure.

Oh joyful peers
Shed jovial tears
The time has come at last
To fly our pride, our generations mast

Hear your future, fate is calling
Find your friends, these walls are falling
Tread with passion, steadfast walking
May your past be the sound,
Of your feet upon the ground.

Let's stay a little longer
I'll be waking up soon,
Into lonely limbo I'll wander
Yet here, in the mirage under your moon
We still have time and words
To share with eachother.

Remember the days when our shoes were stolen by the earth.
  And false Truths could only be read
   On purple stained Popsicle sticks.

When we were willingly kidnapped by the
antihero's of our Fantasy.
   And Stockholm Syndrome devoured us whole.

When false prophets graffitied their wisdom onto bathroom stalls.
   While we washed our religions down the sink.
   And our purpose along with it.

When the letters of every books pages flowed into us
   Like a torrenting river we struggled to make sense of
   But reinvented us all the same.

When we didn't believe a friends last words
    Could be spoken through a mouth in the neck.
    And the whisper we'd hear would fall victim to our failing memories.

When we met the loves our lives everyday of the passing decade.
    How our hearts shattered into countless parts.
    Yet we loved through the pieces of it all the same.

Perhaps these recollections have faded.
Perhaps they still reside here.
Or are mixed in with catalogs of fiction,
So that we can learn to make sense of all these things.

Waves that never break,
Are the desires of our youth,
Rolling ceaseless across a silver lake
Reminding us of a limitless childhood
That our souls will endlessly crave,
Like young lovers kept apart.
And men's thoughts become slaves
To the kingdoms of their hearts.

Maybe I should go back to writing epitaphs.
So then, when it's time to attone, I'll have one for my own gravestone.
I'll use up my life debating what to put on a rock.
And the words I choose will silent words,
Because I have a mind to say with no body to obey.

The sun never set today.
It sat in the sky stubbornly,
Leaving all the boats in the harbor
Without a place to sail away.

So all the sailors sat on the docks,
Beneath the sunshine of an endless moment.

Dab brought me up as a Christian.
His dad had been a preacher,
So carrying on tradition through Holy Diction
Might have been the only path he had seen.
Until Grandpa died.
And we stopped going to church
And we stopped talking about God.

There was never a catharsis.
I never had an epiphany,
But endeavored in gradual change.
And the notion of nonreligion
Was now not so strange.
I am now who I misunderstood.
I'm sorry.

Happiness is less easy to find
Is that from experience or religion or both?
Life is suddenly less kind.
But if it brought me joy, and wouldn't leave me sad,
I would start going to church,
I would talk about God,
And I would talk to my Dad.

I never dream't of of distant lands,
  A universe beyond our own.
Of seamless smiles and gentle hands
  A love I'd call my home.

I never thought of future folds
  Of different me's and you's
Playing roles from unique molds
  On worlds of different hue.

It's true I never pondered
  A life where we are new
Or of kingdoms and unknowns
  I never dream't till you

No matter what each Big Bang brings
  Each reality we share
No matter if it shines or stings
  For you I'm always there.

These are words for things I can't see,
Written in hope they'll replace heartache meant for me.
These words are for the things you do,
That less experienced souls wouldn't believe.

This poem knows the lies you tell in the dark.
And sees your icy bite without a mark,
That you have a taken from my life.
Your face aroused to the twist of the knife.

This poem sees your dance in my shadow
Even if I could not.
Still I feel the indifference
Of a girl who only knows the amusement of false hope.

These words whisper what you've done
And what you'll do to write more sadness.
But my mind is safe,
In a daydream that's tumbled into the ecstasy of madness.

This poem has determined what I dissent.
And it clings to the nostalgia of a freedom it has never known.
While these words only look back,
My tapering gaze derails at the destination of a desolate dream.