If one could read all the many stories
The past has to tell about her,
About him,
About them,
About things.

She lost her life,
Redemption was brought to her,
She built a life and had a child,
She lost a baby
But life somehow brought it back,
Brought him back,
Brought her back...
In all your travels may you see
All the soul and souls you could love
And the things you couldn't take
But tried to accept,
See the value in it,
Get yourself out there where you belong.

There is no mistake greater than not SeeKing the path to Redemption of your own soul, love...
Even if hurtful, sometimes...
Without the sun in your eyes and the moon and the stars,
Without the people you can't enjoy...
Somehow making it for the better world
That has all the right to live well.

But I am looking for my soul,
I'm a wanderer, a seeker, a retriever,
A believer, someone who creates...
Someone who was suddenly there,
Being on the path, trying to make meaning of her life,
And I am there, where I can hear
The Rage,
The rage
Suffering united can produce!
All the Rage our suffering united can produce!

From that Rage: live!
Crush things down, they loved their lives, it's their lives!
Crush things down, they loved their lives,
But I don't want their lives to live, I want to build mine.

What you see is what you aren't,
But embellishes your soul,
Makes you help and grow,
Helps you make and grow
The life you wanted.
And if it's hatred that you need so be it!
Just, be careful what you do!
My friend.

there must have been something wrong,
There must have went something wrong, somewhere...

If you wanted to lose me like this, there must have been
Wrong and wrong doing.

Here's mine: Telling on you, hoping you'll mind your own preferences
And learn your hearts places.

Your sweet butterflies created in the perfect lab
Have visited me in a dream,
They told me so many things that my gut felt forced to train itself,
Stretch to sentence them to a higher flight
Where they could find everything they couldn't want but the way they loved: peaceful
Butterflies fluttering their wings, flying up, flying down,
Mesmerising my mind,
Where's the bee?
They bring pollen that took on their wings
But the bee,
The bee is bringing her honey and her poison and her humming,
Then a buzz,
Then a flight in the search of more flowers.

I ate three thousand butterflies and their queen
Had no problem.

I tell myself I think,
And I think only well,
I listen and I work,
I look for and I play,
I seek and hide.

I tell myself tales asking, asking for help,
I imagine to turn things that upset into a haven,
Heaven in my head, heaven in my head,
I should have remained depressed, died alone
For my family turned so embarrassed.
For my hurting soul to the extreme.

Of concrete and Steel,
Walking-houses Machines,
Blocks of metal, Blocks of tales,
Broken pieces of Reflective tears.

There will be that time taking us
To the knowledge of the right thing to do,
To the knowledge of the heart we need,
To the knowledge of the mindset.
Everyone seems to be there:
Some are mean, some are kind, some are grateful and some funny as Hell.

I love my people having fun being funny as Hell.
It is there where we can have the fun we want,
It is there where we can see some fun
Think a little thought of free
Out of the mindless jobs imposed,
Thinking clearer.