I'm still missin you
            I just wish you knew

its hard moving on
even though your gone

I want you back
and that's a fact

you were my everything
now your cirding

I want you to talk to me
not set me completely free

I love you so much
you just don't understand

you are my world
my everything

and now
you're gone

The older generation said my future is bleak
So I just rose up like a king and broke the ground around my feet
I'm just trying to move you like you don't have the ticket for your seat
My style is so unique
because my soul is antique
If you think that you hold the key
then let the fat lady sing
it's no difference.
For the lows there are highs.
Search for truth and find lies
and you'll claim its the lies but it's truth you despise
me so I move on to plan b.
(Are you #beyond me?
I comprehend
                                                      the irony of trying to figure out the harmony.)

Trust came as a blade catapulting through the air
          Unsure of its trajectory
Unsure of where it may land
    Unsure of where it was even thrown from
     But it was so gorgeous rotating in its path, pushing light from its edges
          I had to have it
          That feeling of utter security
  
I reached and in half a second my hand was gone
    Trust had sliced every ligament and sinew away
         Carved muscle from bone

         And I felt weak
   I quite literally could not grasp the double edged blade that was trust, and now

       I think I may not ever even reach for it again

Begin the ****** battle
Bouncing bullets between brain and vein
Trenches dugged in heart
Barbed wire surrounds damaged parts
Roaring war rages on
Pouring bloodshed in every artery
Aorta keeps pumping
New oxygenated soldiers
But they are soon dead
And their bodies flow back to the heart.
All in name of the superpowers
They do not care of the hours spent
the shower of bullets used
They simple oppose one another
Desires to dispose the other.
Left vs Right
with no end in sight
Each write their demands
Compromising is not an option
So the war continues on
and the body suffers.
You begin to forget about hope
presume the cadet is missing in action
No body to exhume though
you must resume the war
and worry about hope later
If there is one.
As you begin to feel the ware and tear.
Noone is aware of the internal bruising
Missiles cruises, capillaries blown to bits
Military chivalry shivers in this civil war
The cavalries only misery delivery
is that of the dead peasantry.
History's favourite victim.
Without hope, the rope tempts
Only preempts what's to come.
It would take an uprising
for peace to return.
But there is no need for revolutionary force
to win this war.
As the organs are still functionary
A beat, no matter how faint, is still a beat.
and in the pulmonary vein,
that train to the heart,
the optimists are rewarded with an armistrice
and peace breaks out like lil' flamin' poppies
swaying in the breeze lining the battleground
After all the damage done
something pretty survived
and bloomed in spring as a reminder
That even in the lowest part of your history
When war consumes you
inhaling the fumes of
desperation, humiliation
and pain poisons your core
leaving your thoughts sore
and the rope serpent tempts
All is not lost.
Hope can still be seen
can still break the surface and grow.
It has always retained the same purpose.
Just like when Pandora opened her box
and let out all the misery in the world.
One thing remained.
Hope.
There is always hope.
Wars will end.
Time passes
Poppies grow.
You gotta keep believing
Stop deceiving yourself that leaving is best.
You gotta have hope.