Satisfy yourself with the edge of a blade
Shear the lines comparable to maps
Hold the strengths of a mother-bearing child
The beautiful lotus on a Saturday
Be wary of the shadows
They follow as you lead
Sometimes under moonlit skies
We follow living free
Shiver as the night wears on
Be comfortable with me
Living is a waste of time
So waste away with me
Lonely souls bare lonely eyes
From singularity to lullabies
Each passing day the heart goes on
Leaving ribbons from where it lay
In December cold I will remember
This truth from yesterday
Give us strength for we are weak
We are begging on our knees
And this I will pray to you
So hear us if you please
Give to us our daily bread
For we are aching with starvation
And if our wounds should cease to heal
Let our scars be all they see
This troubled life is troubling
If not for you than me
I have said the words of a thousand men
All is lost
Amen

We gaze at the transcendental in disgust for our inspiration is weary.
We feast upon the weak in attempt to gain egotism.
We discourage and destroy beautiful flowers in the hopes to protect the sun from wasting it’s warmth on the worthless.
We then gasp for air and question why we struggle for every breath.
We are naïve, for naivety is in cahoots with arrogance
We have no excuse for no excuse will suffice.
We are granted our last words and we say “We are human” for there is nothing else that needed to be said.
We are our greatest enemy.

Are we not the illustrious men we perceive ourselves to be?
Are we not seen as highly as we see ourselves?
Is love what has been blinding us for all these years?
Has the longing for love brought lust into our eyes to cheat ourselves of our true intentions?
Were our intentions of love in the first?
Was it not lust?
Could it be true, there is no such thing as love?
That what it was we felt was; in fact, lust.
The longing for such, emotion be equaled.
I cannot allow this my love.
The thoughts you bare are not in the same of mine.
They belong entire to one other.
I am not illustrious.
Nor do I see myself in any other light than one bared from the sun.
Love does not blind us.
It does not cheat nor steal.
Emotion ‘twas equaled.
Not between us; no, but to her.
The sun.