The autumn air seeps into my skin
The scent of campfires linger around
The feeling of living, surrounded by dying leaves
The world can be so cold, yet offering a sort of clarity
But that's what makes it so beautiful

A dancer in white
A dancer in black
A circular resonance

A white dove
Dances round her half
Round round round

A black raven
Dances round her half
Round round round

One dancer
Dancing light and dark
A dancer of white and black

One dancer
Dancing dark and light
A dancer of black and white

Two dancers
One dancer
Both the same

The light shines
The dove dances
Only her half

The dark lingers
The raven dances
Only her half

Two birds
One bird
Both the same

Faster faster
The white within
Its resonance

Faster faster
The dark within
Its resonance

Both dancers the same
Always one
Never two

Both birds the same
Always one
Never two

Two birds
Two dancers
One resonance

Against my skin
Wind cascades
Whispering adventure
As leaves tremble

A fire crackles
Soothing light
Cast into the night
Caressing what surrounds

Chill air lays
With a scent of leaves
Mixing with tea
For a relaxing air

A warm drink
Wonderfully suited for chilly nights
Contrasts the October breeze
The perfect duo

A silken black
Draped over the world
A soft touch of wind caressing
Those who wander
Those who ponder
Those who let the beauty
Cascade upon them
For the specks of light shine
Most beautiful
On this backdrop of night

In my hand, there's a pen to write the world
I quiver, reluctant to start writing, the ink pooling into a puddle
Why am I the one upon which this rests?
What if I cause more pain than there already is?
What if everyone hates me for this?
What if there are better ways of rewriting than I can do?
What if...
What if...
What if...


















I set the pen down, leaving the task for someone better suited for this

The rain falls
Washing away illusions
Old "truths" shown to be flawed
Old "safeties" hiding a threat
Gone, the  hidden threats of yesterday

The rain falls
Watering the foundations
For a new truth blooms
And new safeties shown
With the false securities gone

The sun shines
Burning away the lies
For they grow brittle
When shone under light of truth
Shattering at the slightest touch

The sun shines
Feeding the truth
The tulip-blossoms grow
More real as more time passes
Whilst under the revealing sun

A helicopter seed
Seemingly lifeless
Falls to the ground
Just to lie there
Abandoned without its twin

A helicopter seed
So full of life
Falls to the fertile soil
Waiting for the rain
To grow a maple strong

The old world
Shown to be flawed
Calcifies  and shatters
Dissolves and washes away
Until only the true remains

The new world
A world progressing
Sends roots into the remains
Seeking out that dissolved truth
Letting a new world flourish

When the day has died
Come to the place the cicadas cry
A longing for what’s beyond
An answer lies within the pond
Deeper, darker, deeper down
But come up before you drown
As the answers that you seek
Lay not in those waters meek
A ghost of times now long since past
Whose body once lay in the grass
A wreathe of candles floats there still
To mourn the body without gills
A horrid sight where they would play
Where one of them forever lay
An accident is what they say
Where the children once would play
When your world has died
Come to the place the cicadas cry

An island in a sea of liquid sky
Which spans between worlds
How deep does it go?
Is there anything below?
I cross the bridge spanning the sea
Ripples showing where the sea ends
And where the sky begins
A lighthouse grows as I near the other shore
Warning the skyboats of the shoals below
As the bridge fades away, miles upon miles
The sea of sky recedes, a memory, but nothing more

The rose, a proud crimson in the moonlight
Lay upon a white cloth, resting in its resplendence
A drop of blood, caught on the end of the stem, drops down
Expanding across the cloth
Why, now, is the rose so white?

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.

With light in heart
Hope in hand
Forever shall I fight
On my wings of life

May my soul burn ablaze
And the sins I will raze
Letting light shine through
Shining on righteousness

The blaze consumes my all
Making the ashes for a new world
Let mercy shine down
Upon those judged thrash

With some paths to hell
Paved in gilded intentions
The path of eutopia
Must not be paved in blood

Let my name be forgotten
Let my eyes become stars
For as long as there’s light
I shall continue the fight

Everyone’s favorite actor
Putting on a happy face for the world
Fooling everyone, even themself
The crowd applauds, each act garnering more
But the play is just about over
The final act is about to begin
The facade falls, the actor revealed
Time is running out to fix up the act
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Unable to fix the play, they skip to the end
Their Grand Finale

Aetherdance
Dancing through the stars
Flicker into the real

Fade away
Back into the night
Return into a dream

Ebbing and flowing in an endless struggle
The horizon and reality
Most days, far away, but some, dangerously close
On those days, the white of horizon encroaches
Trying to take, itching to eat
The sound of static, disguised as rain
Consuming all other sounds
Reality, though, puts up a fight
Emboldening the colors of the surroundings
As if to say “I’m real, I cannot be destroyed”
The battle ebbs and flows until the horizon again recedes off into the distance
To fight again another day

A bird of no wings,
Fallen from its nesting place,
Still flies on clockwork

Rain
Falling down from stone gray skies
I look up to the expanse of gathering clouds
Feeling them seep in, surely, slowly
A drop hits a rose, a petal falls
A sad splotch of red upon the ground
Another petal falls, adding crimson
To the puddle below

The wind, singing its lullaby through the trees
A slow song, a wonderful song, calling me to sleep
The rustling around of leaves, whispering the secrets of the land
A bedtime story from the time before man
Oh the wonders of the world
Shown by the starlight
Can you bring me now
Good dreams tonight?

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

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

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

The light inside
It wavers, brightening, then fading
I still carry on, letting it light the way

It begins to fade, growing cold
I cannot see, though this has happened before
"Who am I?" I wonder in the dark

"No matter," I say, continuing on
Bumbling through the tough terrain
The ember slowly growing

I come across another
Whose light is growing dim
"Want to walk together, friend?" I ask

Onward we wander
Darkness growing scarce
Until our lights waver both

Another light approaches
Asking us to join them
As their light grows

We wander far
Collecting friends
To help stave off the dark

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

The darkness,
Comforting as it may be
A parasite, eating away at life
Come! Let’s join in campaign
An army of light to fight back
For the dark tells lies
Lies about how life is meaningless
What gives one’s life meaning
That question resounds
For some, art, others pets
But never the exact same
That meaning comes from within
The dark cowers before the light
Though it still tries to slip through the cracks
Trying to corrupt those of light
Twisting thoughts to take control
A hard battle to fight alone
But, together, we are all strong

A shelf of broken bottles
Once a collection of happy memories
Now collecting dust, the happiness long since spilled
I pick up the pieces each time
Another bottle fallen and shattered
The collection, once sweet
Replaced by a bitter reminder

New bottles come in from time to time
Allowing a new shelf to be filled full
Though not as sweet as the vintage
But, as I try to enjoy them, my grip slips
Another broken bottle, another pile of glass
Until I have another shelf of broken glass

The spark I lost in the years so far
Lost when I began to say "Impossible"
"That's impossible, I can't do that..."
"That's impossible..."
"Impossible..."
It's time to learn how to laugh again
Laugh at the word "Impossible"
Laugh at what it means
It's time for me to embrace
That moment of freefall
The moment I learn whether I can fly
Or I plummet to try again next time
Learning about my wings

Shards of thought
Usually in sync
A clear tone
Out of phase, though
A cacophony
Hard
To
Think
One thoug- anoth- yet on-
Different waves
What abo-
Cancel out and add
Mayb-
A useless signal
Too much mental noise

Sometimes I wonder
How thin is that thread
The thread I live on?
My body, damaged by itself
Kept alive by a life support
A little machine, fighting its battle
A never ending job
But, sometimes overzealous
Bringing me closer to the other edge
Reminding me how thin my thread is
Waking up, not a guaranteed occurrence
Some days, I wake up dangling over the edge
A correction overshot the night before
Now requiring attention
Though, what would happen if I fall off
Before I wake to take care of it?
Will someone catch me?
Another machine, tasked with watching
Alerting me when I near the edge
But, when it fails to wake me from deaf sleep
I am reminded of how thin my thread is

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