What comes into our heads as day turns into night
And sky turns black as coal before the next morning’s light?
Idle fantasies of childhood? Scoring the game’s final run?
Imagining years down the line with a daughter or a son?

Like an ever spiraling maze with an ending unclear
Some stoke our pleasures, others bring unsettled fear
The one time when we truly are impossible to find
Since no one else can access the reaches of our mind

Or perhaps these are not thoughts we have while we sleep
But ambitions to guide our path and goals that we keep
Directions from one point to another, like GPS in a car
So we can reach the mountain’s summit, not just admire it from afar

No matter the topic or intensity, let these visions in your life
Whether they come in times of quiet peace, or heavy angst and strife
Obstacles will no doubt appear along the way
Translate the phrase carpe diem; go out and seize the day

in a world where we pray to be united
within the grasp of wholehearted humanity
standing tall
we sink in the dirt beneath our feet
and holding our heads up high we sing with the utmost pride
a song of which becomes a chanting notion
setting the tone for revenging entities
growing weary of the unwanted waste we toss our visions in the sea
without daring to take the promising chance

how are we to stand together
in a castle built to crumble in its past?

and yet we become the fools
lost in the fight and lost in our grieving
we walk the streets with our banners and our anger
without understanding what we are feeling

let me take you back to nineteen sixty three
when we marched on Washington
and we were lead by a King
what merely started as the seed of a dream
became the prelude to never ending history
yet with each milestone comes adversaries
and we still cry the tears of our fallen fathers
we still cry to be free

but remember my brothers and sisters
to be mindful in your actions
for blood does not wash blood away
and because the tongue can be a sword
be mindful of every single word you say
the whole world is unjust
be emotional if you must
but the time is now to be reflective
to be knowledgeable
to be respected
because the hearts of our sons and daughters
still need to be protected

the sun my still set orange
and they moon may still shine white
the day may still end at quarter to
the moment everything is night
and in each passing day are you going to become the change that is needed to win the fight?

are you going to do what's right?

When we'd stood and wondered
where our lives were going,
not knowing our hearts had blundered
still we waited for the midnight crowing.

We thought we could begin our journey
at the morning's first light,
and when the fires were lowly burning
we had seen that beautiful sight

At light's last waning glow
we realised our folly
and felt love's striking blow.

We fell and neither was sorry
as we were consumed by the falling snow

Shock to my heart,
Torn all apart,
Still, I can't see,
A better place to be.

Won't somebody come
And save me from myself.
Won't somebody come,
I can't make it by myself.

Trapped by my fears
In my waisted years.
I've searched my soul to find
Some sense of peace of mind.

Won't somebody come
And save me from myself.
Won't sombedy come
I can't make it by myself.

All, all alone.
Never to feel at home.
Why do I feel this way?
Make it all go away...

search on,
for something I won't own
Search, I'm searching on
I'm searching on.

So, how have you been?
I know it's been awhile.
I couldn't bare to watch this creature feature -
The selling out for style.
What good is luminescence
If there is nothing to be seen?
I choose to light my words
With colors-
Blues, and reds, and greens
And shower it with glistening golden streams.
So, pardon me as I purge my disappointment.
Where does integrity go
When the walls are burning down?
The lanes are blocked with gratuitous frivolity as meaningless as the strands of fiber drifting in a beam of sunlight-
Particles of bodies that settle on the coffee table only to be wiped away by a tattered cloth.
I cry out for the setting of the sun,
That glowing orb which destroys the mysteries,
And robs the seeker of discovery.
I ask,
Are the shadows being driven into the crevices never to be seen again?
There would be no depth perception without them.
A phantom weight is here,
Then just as suddenly as it came,
has gone.
The color is washed away in all the brightness.
What is left is white,
and not much else to write,
But of the sadness of the ways
it takes the texture from the days.

I see diffeRent
I no longer sEe
myselF,
Lost
within Every
inCh looking up at
The mirror and
wantIng
tO scream until the pieces fell
uNto the floor, as I try to find myself