Is it the air that breaks out through the sphere of vapor?
Or, does it say they're in to popular music?
What a weird poem
To write today
My head's too dizzy
With eyes, too sleepy.

Dear stranger in despair,
The world loves you
I know none about you
But so much that I can say
The world loves you.

The turmoils and the sorrow
Unite against us all
So does misery
That pulls us down
So hard, we stumble.

The quicksand that pulls
So low, we almost give in
The fearsome foresight
That exhibits each and every time
Delusions by the horror.

To see reality
But beyond the scope
With a pair of daydreamers
Focused within the span
Below or within the fantasy
That frightens or dictates
The odds of misery.

To perceive a blurry vision
Yet a clear imagination
Of what is yet to be seen
Or what is to ever commence
Never aware of what to believe
For the mischief of every storyteller
Uninvited yet entertained
Delivers free delirium.

In a thoroughgoing reform
Of every ongoing mend
Hoping to resurrect
The peaceful beginnings
And end every desolation.

To roll the orbs of fortune-tellers
As if to find any solution
But to end up feeling emptiness
That invades the mighty borough
So decides to fill with darkness
Such pair of daydreamers
And to let the warmth
Of frozen moments
Become a sudden comfort
So swiftly passing by.

(a Shakespearean sonnet by MysticRiddleton)

Lake of mirror from beneath,
On thee reclines the wet gray cotton sea
Glowing faintly overneath
Projects penumbras of the tree
Pictures alter by the angle
Heaven slithers swift as I
Near and closely leans in angle
Sees thy creature eye to eye
Alas! The radiance that makes thee luster
Decides to pluck thee bit by bit
Pictures fading by the mirror
Lake of mirror, be not beat!
Keep thy stagnant lake, oh mirror
Let thou ripple with some vapor.