Obsessed with fear,
Obsessed with tears,
Obsessed with the years of pain and slavery to fear.

Alive and well,
the pain is real, you can't tell?
Awkward and weird.
Out of place, pure.

Crying inside.
Thoughts collide.
Obsessed with pain.
Obsessed with the moments filled with rain.

Too much pain.
Too much rain.
Too much to bear.
Wear and tear.

Tighten chest.
Stupid fest.
Hated feast.

Shaking hand.
Can't breathe.
Heart hurting.
Continuous gasping for air.

" I am so stupid. What did I do?"
"What am I doing!?"
"You foolish hag what are you doing?"
I am hardly free from this anxiety.
Free me...

People of cotton minds.
Implanted with chips of different sizes.
Shaken and stirred is what makes their thoughts...our thoughts??
Floating around in defiance of truth.
Floating around with uncouth language.

"I Don't Care"
That's what you write of fountain pens of sugar-coated darkness.

Floating around in an abstract, broken glass world. A world of a glass maze.
You think that by closing your eyes you can see better.
Open up.
At least then you can see the pain the world.
At least then you can see the problems of the human heart.
At least you can see the shattered glass on the floor.
At least you can learn how to love.

A loveless life is such a loss.
Such a misery of a life.
Without love. There is no life.

Floating around in fluff and wool.
Obliviously in destructive symphony.
Floating around once in a while.
To avoid the problems of the soul...
To avoid the problems of the heart, the world. . .

Plunging holiness.
Plunging thoughts.
Plunging feelings brought.

Fighting not working.
Not strong enough.
How can I fight this fight without a physical sword?

Falling highs.
Calling lows.
I am trying to find a home.
Where I can feel at peace.
Even in the stormy seas.

You provide that.
I know that.
But my heart doesn't want to believe it...
Why!?
Yearning for something I already have.

Sinful pleasures.
***** sins.
I don't want that.
I don't need that.
I don't want that....
I don't need that...
I don't want this.
I don't need this.

I don't want the darkness covered in light
I want and I need the light covered in darkness.
That pass that thorny bushes and rough walls would I finally be able to get through, and take my crown....

I keep fighting voices in my mind that says I'm not enough
Every single lie that tells me I will never measure up
Am I more than just a song of every high and every low
Remind me once again just who I am because I need to know

You say I am loved when I can't feel a thing
You say I am strong when I think I am weak
And you say I am helped when I am falling short
And when I don't belong, Lord you say I am yours
And I believe, yes I believe what you say of me
Oh I believe

The only thing that matters now is everything you say of me
Cuz in you I find my worth in you I find my identity

You say I am loved when I cant feel a thing
You say I am strong when I think I am week
And you say I am helped when I am falling short
And when I don't belong, Lord, you say I am yours
And I beieve, yes I believe what you say of me
Oh I believe

Taking all I have now I'm laying at your feet
Cuz you have every failure, God, and you have every victory

You say I am loved when I cant feel a thing
You say I am strong when I think I am weak
And you say I am helped when I am falling short
And when I don't belong, Lord you say I am yours
And I believe, yes I believe what you say of me
Oh I believe

And I believe, yes I believe what you say of me
Oh I believe

If life was music,
then we’d be the words.
Capturing every nuance,
in every minute of everyday.

We’d be the melody.
A piece that tunes unique.
Encompassing the lightness of flightful joy,
the strength of surety
and weight of doom and darkness.

We’d be the story.
Written by the will of the universe.
Intricately ornate...
True...
To each our eyes and hearts.
Arranged most haphazard
yet so beautiful.

We’d be a symphony.
And we will be the music...

Only to our ears.

.

Sitting on the floor.
In the cold and dusty corridoor.
My ears placed on the floor.
The waters carried memories.
The wet mossy floor carried the memories of those who lived here before.
It's careful hands hugged those little lights tight.
The moonlight shone with silver light.
The promises of tomorrow held in his hands.
As the savior slowly lands.
Taking back the land.

Sitting on the floor.
On the once ***** corridoor.
My ears placed on his chest.
His mercies afresh.

People say you can't predict the future.
The one-sided posters and paper lies.
They lie that you are yourself.
They lie that you can predict.
They lie that you are in control.
When you lose control, you lose yourself.
shaken.
broken.
unable to get up.
i dont want to think that way.
i dont want to feel that way.
i dont........