In my eyes the tears flow
Longing for the whole

A few pieces broken from my soul
Haunt me from their voids

Years pass, while I avoid
The longing for what should have been

'Twas recently when
I accepted this longing for myself

Cataloging what I have on my soul's shelf
Noting all the missing parts

The process of finding then starts
Searching in places I must go

A circle in the woods
Dancing 'round in moonlight
Flickering through the leaves

The cool air wraps around
Intoxicating in its freshness
The world grows thin

Joined in autumnal song
The dance goes on
Reality ebbs and flows

Danging dying down
The familiar forest changed
Never to return

The new world awaits
With arcane knowledge
Finally at home

Aetherdance
Dancing through the stars
Flicker into the real

Fade away
Back into the night
Return into a dream

Frozen
In time
Eternally
There's no escape
From the Garden of Glass

Fragile
Beauty
Never to be touched
Else all will break
In the Garden of Glass

Empty
Lonely
In crystal beauty
The gilded leaves
Of the Garden of Glass

Unseen
Unheard
Incorporeal
No one can enter
The Garden of Glass

A vital force
Keeping people together
Showing who we are

In interactions
It is seen
Either displayed or shunned away

This world of "logic"
Of shunning kindness
Falls short of utopia

Why must logic
Be the force of shunning
Keeping kindness away?

Kindness should be the result of
Analyzing what should be done
Logically

From nothing, a new thing
A fresh start, a new beginning
This noble cycle
Of creation and destruction
Returns something into nothing
Then back again

A new sprout in a forest
From the void of nonexistence
Comes a tree tall, then mulch again

As the world cycles on
I watch as a new
Something
Is born in my hands
From the void of an old
Something
Is closed

A field of blossoms,
Sparkle in the light,
Though they seem divine,
Don’t let it fool your eye.

Built on bloodshed,
But not ours, you see,
We were goaded on,
To benefit their greed.

Taken from our homes,
A gun ****** to our hand,
They sit back and say,
“Fight for your motherland.”

Blinded by outrage,
We make another field,
“Worthless, inhuman”
Slaughtered as they yield.

Bellicose nations,
Eventually will turn,
Their quest for power,
Will cause them all to burn.

Those who see them,
For what they really are,
Targeted like those,
Who have been slain thus far.

A field of blossoms,
Sparkle in the light,
Though they seem divine,
Don’t let it fool your eye.