Feet swayed above the depths of the deep blue sea, eyes scanning over the horizon of crimson reds and embellished purples that rest with the indolent ripples of water; leaving reflections of scattered perfection to dissipate into the open waters. Longing for a sense of direction, a sense of change. My heart ached for a better me, to be as beautiful and courageous as this sea.

The salty water napped at my toes, hitting the floating pillars that hold up this stretch of rotting wood, as though in a rage to let me know, “You are beyond what you see, open your mind and let free, just be!” But who am I beyond this flesh prison of intellectual knowledge? A walking encephalon of salted water, feeling more then my core accounts for; I want to be the sea, and so much more.

An illusion in the real world, as if the magic man forgot to snap his fingers and bring me back to reality; and still, I pity those who can not see me. The genuine me. If only I could be seen beyond the phony, people-pleasing charade. Oh, what a lovely day it could be. To listen to the quiet, before me. For words are not what make self, but the silence of the unspoken, of the words spoke within.

Though, I look on into those crimson reds and embellished purples, I am reminded that I am just as puny as the planet itself, beyond the galaxies of space and time. Or am I just as vast as an ant to its crumb, that falls beneath the floor board? A dreamer of the void, but I’ll never touch the starry night light. I am a gnomist, deluged in a subconscious mass of riptides. There has to be a better construct among the hillsides, but my mind is branching off in dark suicides.

As my thoughts wandered, so did the allegory of the sky, beneath the sea to sleep; and the darkness settled a top the water. Where am I now? Still. Silent. Wreaking havoc on this ageless soul. I lay back on the rotten wood of this outstretched dock far from the shore, with my thoughts deep, deeper then the water that licks my toes with every wave that pushes. Water that once touched the deepest sands of the sea. Water that has coasted along sunken ships and forgotten memories that lay a strewn bottomless pits, never to be seen. Water that evaporates into the sky, touching the air we breathe, with clouds that sheds it's watery tears back into the sea, singing, “Oh, wont you come with me, to this wasteland of the silent. Where we’re all destined to be.” I raised my hand and touched what can not be seen. Seen, but can not be touched - The starry night, and the aurora’s green ribbons of light, dancing to rhythm of my off beat heart.

What a beautiful sight. Thoughts of darkness turned to light. A different thought provoked within, and a smile creeped across my face. How strange that a change in scenery can alter one’s mind riddle in a blink of an eye. Once dark and sorrowful, to serene and irenic. The search for our better selves, is never-ending and ever changing.

Youre all a bunch of fools
locked up in this beautiful world.
you think destroying the Earth is cool,
for your own needs and stupid tools.
stop with all your nonsense,
give the world a break,
and see what she gives us.
not only do I care but I feel what she does.
Stop the ******* torture,
cause we're bleeding out in pain,
mother earth didn't create herself,
to get torn down in fain.
believe what you will, create what feel,
but i'll be the one laughing when
you're feeling insecure.
the damage is done,
theres no turning back now.
mother earth is dying,
and none of you feel sorrow.
All you have is vanity,
its raising my insanity.
so when you die from pollution,
and wonder,
where have all the trees gone?
dont fuss now,
because you didnt step up your tone.
if you would have stopped,
to think of mother earth herself,
we could have stopped it.
and shun ourselves in fame,
but no,
youre all to ******* blame.

Don't disregard the darkness of a soul,
where it comes from will he foul,
but give it the time of day,
and she'll play,
oh she'll say, pay-
attention ,
dont disregard the darkness of a soul,
you might turn foul