Today a thought or two sped into center stage,
Disguising the space that surrounds the seas,
What if the lands we ran from were where we ought to be?
What if the green leaves of summer could no longer be seen,
Autumn colors only reminders of pastures in a dream.
Birds singing unfamiliar songs, ones we had never heard,
Yes, it is great to be part of the new but it isn't as new as it seems.
Dave, John and Mary have been here before,
Sure didn't they talk about it in the times?
No, that was some other folk, turning memories into sweet rhymes.
You weren't the first to open the door, spreading wisdom, giving new hope.
Remember all lands were founded so play in them how you may,
All of these pastures were built for your pleasure,
New characters created each day.
Its not that you are less special then all who have gone before.
No, you have a purpose, so use it, adding blocks to the core.
In memory of Seamus and Thomas, sing out to all who will listen,
Give them your whole hearted vision
Explain that a pasture isn't a prison.

Forgive the grey sea for its intrusion at this hour,
Don't believe its breaking hum that holds such power,
Meaningful strokes sweep the bed where it weeps
The grey sea trying hard to evade those who sleep.
Succumbing to the swish, the swash unfolding,
Unbeknownst to all the dreams its withholding.
The break ponders before deciding on its course
Underneath its caress is a knife that is sharp,
Unafraid to utilize its brutal force
How easy it is to drown in nature left ajar.
The grey sea lies still, calm and unruly
But what of the waves that linger in our paths?
Find them, stroke them, brush by them cruelly,
Their present once wanted, no need to look back.

Ignited by two unwanted stones, we charged straight for one another,
In a valiant battle, only we can describe, there you became my lover.
In not one but three drums beating, you marched right into my heart,
Afraid of no on-coming ambush, knowing that you could get hurt.
No trumpets or whistles did i hear you blow,to give me a warning sign.
No sooner had you begun fighting when I completely knew you were mine.
The battle roared on, they drew swords but you marched to the finish line,
Are you happy now that you have won? Listening to triumphant chimes.
What you hear is not blissful, there are no medals to be had.
Only a poor injured whisper, why couldn't you have been bad.
Now that you've reached your safe haven, is it what you thought it would be?
Could it be that its different?
You don't see yourself in me.

The surrounding pleasures measure me
And all that I have become,
The petals fall so slowly,
Telling time for the passing young.
Beauty triumphs from corners
Of mouths bursting with stories to tell
Who rose to conquer new places
How they differ from those who fell.
Motions depict a serenity,
Once followed with wonder and awe
Now punching with rhythmic nothing's,
The small screen has become the new law.

Did you see what you've become? A consumer of the world,
A lover of those shows for those who long to just be heard.
A breather of the air, so dense, that we can barely see,
A taker of whatevers going, items presumed to set you free.

Did you see what you've become?A product of someone else,
A replica of her or him, a never ending image of the self.
A who, a what, a where, a when, a constant reflection of them.
Don't forget to become what you said you would, be what you ought to be.

Did you see yourself on the screen? I did, on every last page.
A happy, adventurous side of you - no different from the masses.
When did you stop playing the lead, settling for backstage?
Just when social hierarchy is becoming archaic you construct divergent classes.

You are more than you think, you are who you are,
You are the person they want to see.

I have a plan. It involves you and me.
To go to the sea, to see what has yet to be seen,
To be where no other ought to be,
To follow no footprints left in the sand,
Walking ever so quietly, hand in hand.
Reaching a place not stood on before,
Looking out to the night from a wondrous shore!

There is a joy in nothingness, all the way from Donne.
Just being and believing that nothingness has won.
Let others strive for the something's, the battles to be fought.
Whilst we rejoice in the mundane that is so often lost.
When pleasures prove to troublesome, love fades away
Enjoy the chance in nothingness,
Let it help you find your way.
To be, to smile, to cry, to laugh,
To wake up everyday,
It's the nothingness that pushes through,
The something's never stay.