Your favorite toy from childhood
The sport you loved to play
That book that kept you fascinated
The friends you made in school
That bad grade you got on your test
Your first kiss you ever had
The fights you had with your parents
That moment your life was perfect
The moments it was not
That first time you were away from home
The one secret you'll never tell a soul
That person you love to be around
The dog you saw on the street
That sense of accomplishment
The loneliness you sometimes feel
That time you laughed so hard your stomach hurt
Your first hangover
The moment you thought your life was in shambles
That good show you recommend to everyone
The books that shaped your worldview
That character you want to be
The moment you realize
That all things come to an end
The world looks much less scary
That it did before reading this
The timeline you live in
That you inhabit
The things you do
That will all fade
Gently
Into nothingness

Within my grasped palm of a mind
I hold a story that the world has never heard
A story where man meets his match
Where the lines between monster and god run grey
I hold in me the finest story to shed itself to reality
A glistening monarch emerging from its cocoon
Within my grasped palm of a mind
I clasp a story of a lifetime
I simply must release my fist
And rearrange these letters
To let loose this grand tale.

If a single man committed the worst crime
To save the entire world
How would the world view him?
Questions like these
Make it impossible to not thoroughly
Unquestionably
Marvel Humanity

You have a crowd of 10,000 people
5,000 die
Is it still a crowd?

You have a heap of sand
You take out 1,000,000 grains
Is it still a heap?

You have 5,000,000 trees in a forest
You cut down 4,500,000 trees
Is it still a forest?

You have 3 parts of the brain
You remove the Insular Cortex
Are you still human?

At what point do we change?
When does something cease to be?
If man ceases to feel disgust amidst atrocity,
Is he still human?

No forceful push
Nor violent gust
Was needed
To tear down his house
This house made of paper
Where the paper man stayed

His thin white walls
Without any windows
With a light in the middle
Gave shapes
To those outside
Trying to peer in

But along she came
With her fiery heart
A soul with warmth
Like embers from a hearth
And she easily burned down
That timid paper house

I hand this dying torch to you
for though its light is dim
I trust that you shall carry me,
my memory within.

I hand this forgotten torch to you
for though my name is lost
I trust that you shall remember me,
that is the only cost.

Take this old mans torch from him
Sweet child I call mine
He trusts you shall do wondrous things
as he fades in eternal time.