typing really ******* the shapes of my most valued personal devices
suddenly everything becomes too large to handle
i feel as if i am being chased a big evil dinosaur
i am running away from God and into the dark
the life i never fully lived now becomes an alternate reality
many feared my tragic existencee
or so i made it seem with the masquerade good ridence
[my grimmace]
a short burst of energy and i differitiate the 2
i live in 2 worlds an i acknowledge the 2

Are my pains and troubles only temporary?
Is this meant to inspire me?
Am I suppose to withstand?
Or is that only irony?

What if the future I imagine does not come out to what it seems to me?
Will reality set in for what life means to me?

Am I that of something too profound to decide?
Or a wicked red eye in the sky?
Does my heart overule the mind?
Does an impotent blue flame lie inside?
  
Why is it that my heart cries for joy?
why does the world outcast the compassionate and pure at heart?
Where am I to go from adversity?
And where do I start?

Is all that we become destined to be?
Or are the things in life that take place
Part of an ongoing race?

Are we purposed in life to differ right and wrong?
Or is the intentions moreso to do what is required to live old and long?
Will the abundance of my heart sprout as flowers of the earth?
Will I illume as the moon glows the night?
Or will external circumstances dim my inner light?

Everything that I felt was so sudden and so unbelievable
How could this malleable being become so molded by extremes of devastation
This alternate reality
Or so it seems
Becomes the nightmarish life of this dreamers world
This life is despised so because of the ambition of the young man
To and for those who was inspired by the young man
And to all those were transpired in the existence of the young man