Unscrupulous, surreptitious, and without a doubt, unnerving! This innate dissonance, have you ever encountered such a vile thing? Like a rainforest of such beauty and tranquility only to be interrupted by the bombs of war! Thundering amongst the hail of bullets are massive planes accompanied by perilous sounds from tanks and  agonizing death screams! The disgusting noise pollution of such dissonance within this imagery is just too much to bear!

You see, this world is filled with contrasts. Black and white, night and day. There's never a boring moment once you've become insane yet there's nothing to do when you're sane! It's highly implied that life is incomplete without death. Like the fingerprints on our fingers, life is diverse and unique, yet in this instance, everything's a mess!

The ears can see and the eyes would hear, and I'm driven insane by this sight! The heart can think and the mind can feel, and I would bitterly claim that I do not think to feel these types of things. These bombshells called emotions has destroyed my tranquil mind space. It has been filled with the shrapnel of you, setting me ablaze and injuring my inner confines like say, my gut, for I feel butterflies in my stomach. I feel as if I'll be plucking up daisies from that grassland I've once sat on. You've ruined my orchestra with dissonant notes.

I couldn't ask for more.
You revel in the ever-changing.
In my dissonance,
I'll then hand you this note:

*"I thank thee for the chaos one hath brought upon me; I crumble down as I am rebuilt. Like the earth born from planetary collisions, we've collided. I hope to be amongst the stars, like the earth, filled with life."

In the face of despair, I'll surely hope.
In the face of death, I shall try to cope.
As I was wallowing in misery,
I just found the reason to be merry.

Borderlines of my care and apathy,
Tell me, which one should I even believe?
As I try to cope with my depression,
I just found myself a reason to smile.

The juxtaposition of my laughter,
The irony of my own emptiness,
The hollowness of my own entirety,
It's probably the opposite, really.
This reaction formation of myself,
Clad in some ominous oxymoron.

As I tread this path with prickles & thorns,
With fluttering butterflies in my gut,
With blurry visions of vague horizons,
Failed to notice, I was stuck in a rut.

I reached a small pond that mirrored my face,
I see roses, patches of red petals.
I was enamored with it as I trace,
The roses that formed a maze to my pulse.

It was blood, I was dying painlessly.
These thorns were shrapnel from a hand grenade,
The feeling of butterflies was numbness,
My blurred vision was from a ruptured vein,
I fell flat, dying, laying on the grass,
Please, my love, end me with a coup de grâce.

everything's blacked out,
reigning over me are dark clouds,
incapacitated in awe and standing still,
nimbus clouds rain on me as I sleep sound.

lackadaisically waking up,
yawning as I walk outside, finding,
labyrinths of an ideal reality,
enamored with self-confusion and insanity.

roaming around aimlessly,
obfuscated in perpetuity,
maddened and under the weather,
adamantly rejoicing in the sorrowful rain.

An addiction to the color named red,
An affinity to feelings of dread,
Like waterfalls and raindrops, I feel drenched,
Clothed in a gown of crimson red is death.

Hemophilia causes excessive blood loss,
Just by being touched, you bloom like a rose!
Like roses with thorns that bleeds it's color.
To me who's bleeding out, "You're just a pose!"
I scream out with anguish, a quiet pause.
I lay in a pool of ****** dolor...

To me, you're lips are just like spikes and thorns,
With flowery words born from blooming roses,
As if an explosion of gray matter,
Were your poems that made me bleed all-out.