Tick tock I hear the clock. Sweating and flaming inside the sheets, when will this nightmare become what it truly is, a dream. Not reality.

I can't awaken, not even after my best pinch, as I fall deeper into my fear I quickly realize I'm on stage. Performing for just one in the crowd, finally feeling deep inside the cringe.

Naked and afraid on the inside, appearing confident and sculpted from outside, as if made of clay.

Melting away by the second from the constant flames, liquid drops falling to the floor splashing, and crashing, as we do what seems like play.

****** ambitions always stay, but true love and relationships float away.

I can't hold onto how, or keep fighting this fight. This is just the present situation, and this girls heart won't stay together tonight.

Smashing and crumbling hearts to pieces becoming a normal routine, where the true effect is slid beneath the rug, beneath the feet of where we're *******.

Changing myself, evolving into a new chapter and turning a page.
Tired of this ****, the feeling of rage from being in a locked cage.

I will break free of this war I wage.
I will break free and stop my irrational jeer, finally, I will celebrate the moment with this lady, not the nightmare.

I feel decompressed and lethargic,
as I continue scrolling through my online soul only to see a kind-hearted person now nostalgic.

Why can't we all feel the same?

Why does the world seem to be aflame?

It's because we all try to accomplish being perfect,
and when we spot "convicts" we don't even detect we inflict neglect.

The thought of unity is fading away as is the hippie way,
a late anniversary bouquet whittling away,
a smoking cigarette left around the ashtray, dying this midsummers day.

Why is this thought so crazy anyway?

The change starts internally,
and can only be finished by an honest community,
one where we can all live with our acquired mental immunity.

Finally, peace sets within our unity.

Mediating throughout my body is a shivering cold, the winter is here and snowfall is now of old, yet I continue shaking in a blindfold.

Wandering aimlessly in these woods of life,
trying to fixate and aim and not ***** the competing wildlife.

My one chance to make it in this forest,
I must listen as though I am this woods leading aurist.

All of this preparation for one shot at a "happy life",
a cookie-cutter form of "what to do" with your knife.

As a twig snaps beneath me and all is spooked I suddenly realize,
I now hypothesize that I must revolutionize my own "happy life"

I sprint through from and away the woods without a second of regret or care of the startling noise I paraded through these sacred woods, the bright moon leading me to all that I wanted...happiness.