I ache for you.
Theres an emptiness between my fingers.
This isn't beautiful.
It hurts.

Words are not for the divine; they are for us.
We need words to relay ideas,
But things and ideas exist whether or not described or labeled.
Mere words don't influence the natural laws;
We fool ourselves as we influence ourselves and others.
Spells cast or supplications prayed:
It is not the power of the words alone manifested.
So much emphasis is placed on the formulae of what we say to influence forces greater ourselves;
Does God not know intention? Does nature even take notice?

It is sad
a heart of a lad
dug into trenches and furrows
a heart on the tilt
to drain all the silt in the pacific ocean
to end the future mensch
to be long forgotten of their existence
rich in hidden treasures

It is sad
among the best lad
bestowed arrow and bow not
the young of a generation cut off
weak and feeble to their feet
no tutor to guide the "flock"
a promising zealous
generation

Who's  the saviour
Of the weak and feeble generation?*
nobody knows,only time will tell

I know I sound like a poser
a third-rate actor
I've been known to be a liar
but attention isn't what I desire
always in situations that are dire
everyday I feel like I've been set on fire

“So, you want me to sort your troubles,
All your small, pointless worries?
“I could, and I suppose I should,
But right now I’ve my own quarries”

“What about the rest of the world?
Ever think about them?
How about the starving children
To which the world has condemned?”

“How about the soldiers?
The ones fighting your wars?
The wounded, and the dying,
Knocking on Deaths door?

“Shall we speak about the homeless
And the lives they could’ve had?
With not even a place to sleep
Now that, my friend, is sad.

So the rest of the world has bigger problems
That could be fixed if we dare,
So the “problems” that you have
Is of a subject I do not care."