I had a dream that impending doom was right around the corner.
Waiting to ****** up my mortal life.
And no one would notice I disappeared.

What a world we live in...that I could experience that and not feel shocked.

The day was going so well until I got smacked in the face by a soccer ball...

And what makes it worse is that I felt it coming.

yeah, that's my life.

A cascade of moods flush my seemingly eternal slumber,
Reminding me that I am, in fact, alive.
Although, I don't feel very alive, latched to cumber.
A battle where winning is something to strive.
A game of trials where I battle alone.
No amount of pleading will change me my fate.
Something's hunting for my soul until it is gone.
It's hard to walk humbly in a world full of hate.

I'm watched by bystanders who relate but hide.
To make me feel alone, excuse it with pride.
You must have people, so for that, you are wrong.
They tell themselves this 'til I've broke and I've died.
I question their motives, now that I'm a ghost.
How could someone love so **** selfishly cruel?
You love for some people, yet in that, you boast.
They're hypocrites, and I love like a fool.

If I'm deep but raw, i'm not heard at all.
If i'm shallow and disguised, i'm neither loved or despised.
If I'm like everyone else, I don't feel better when I'm my self.
Because I live in a world that rejects me.
I feel like a robot, stuck behind a glass screen.

I saw it look at me,
And, then fled,
Something, as scary, as they all said,
So I followed it into the woods,
Cause if you had a brain, you would.

I gently, tip-toed, over the stuff,
A branch, some boulders, some weak, some tough,
Until I saw a shadow nearby,
I knew they would never tell a lie.

They said it would eat me if I am near,
Take me captive so no one would hear,
And they all had a play in all this,
Now here I am in the woods with it.

It noticed me and then it stretched out,
Laid on its stomach, a friend, no doubt,
To let me pet it and without fear,
So that's what I did when I got near.

Now when I visit, I call its name,
"Osten" for ostensible, the same,
My friend, my ally, my companion,
Who would have known it'd be a dragon?

Silent widow dancing down the street

Lucid weather warmer than the heat

Cheerful mornings gently play like dreams

It's a haunting, scarier than the sea


If stars may fall let them drown us

A light pool of hope and of trust

A story of a wonderful delight

Something we all want to indulge in the night.

Hey over there, with the wild unruly hair.
Do you ever wonder why this world is so very unfair?
Is it's clearness so foggy and it's foundation soggy?
Does your hope make you groggy when the ground feels so boggy?

Listen here, my sweet and fragile dear.
Even a bird of hollow bones can sense that aura of fear.
But it is okay, for this is why you are so sane.
A world that was fair would just ruin this game.

Have you ever felt good, when you conquered a challenge?
When everyone else seemed to have found their allonge?
Yet you had to go further to leap over the hurdle.
And when you leaped out they all soon turned into turtles.

It's a game my dear, but a game of what's there.
When did the game master ever say that this game was fair?
Now put on your shoes, and make this your campaign.
And you will never ever look at the game the same.