Laying my ear upon a noise, so distant.
Constantly shaking the walls that stand in the way of progress. All keystones withheld from view, looking over the fact my shirt’s distorting my panorama.

But at last, with some aid, I’ve come across an ear’s aid. Laying this sense upon a noise, at first so distant. The walls now speaking the word that is “progress.”

Why falter for love?
To laugh?
To Create?
Is it natural or something more?
(As if something could be more than natural)

Supernatural?
Constructive logic?
Why falter for love?

Perhaps the risk involved is the long sheltered need for an emotional challenge. One that exceeds childhood's.

The warm cushion of love seats those who brave the unknown.
Those who see through the eyes of an owl.
Breaking the barriers of you, that you once though absent.

Absent eyes for soul's doubt.
Till the day we figure it out.
We question...
Why falter for love?

I'm dripping away, so cradle me to my haven.
Drowning this scene with rock hard doubt and regret.

Subtly breaking.
Constantly shaking.
Bleeding through mirrors, that float alongside me.

Blue so dim, mind walking aimlessly to the cold, cold beat of your heart.
Tracking every moment, so thinking is out of the question.

A step today, lost tomorrow
Consider the rain
Remember to borrow

Progress fixated as reversal, correlated actions.
Sleep along-side your will, as it stares with brightly colored irises.

An idle face of direction.
No hope
No faith... within himself....

This is no longer the case.

To know what I mean, you must perceive life through my eyes.

The event that shed light on my thoughts and wisdom, just might have pulled a shroud over your happiness.
And that mountain you've overcome, has stopped me in my tracks.

Then frustration occurs, and now thoughts are gathered.
Sifting through memories to aid my understanding.
Yet I've come to realize my overall experience is not shared.
You are not my trials and I not yours.

So the way I see it, is like this:
We are what we feel.
We are what we know.
What we think is what we are.
We believe what we see.
We believe what we do.
How we perceive makes up what we believe.

A shared event gives us a closer view on what one another feels.

Words can never express, more or less.
Vibes are felt till the day we die.
But I am not dead.

And with this knowledge peers a window.
One window that connects us all.
And through it we can gaze upon the beauty of one mind, one consciousness and one shared event.

Please advise me how to live, that's just what I want.
To live in fear that clutches my heart.
Try to wither me, from what is real and what we forgot.
We lost our will to fly.

Difficult to sleep these days, so much weight to shoulder.
Still manage to live.
Though content, this can't be my purpose through life, my energy is pointing to the way of the wind.

So I cry when I watch birds fly.

The constant fear of pleasant shame
Delay the love for pleasing them and find the love for ear's affection

Play on... Create something for yourself
This isn't for them
Play on... Ideas are a thinkers weapon
Use them till the end

Better yourself, though your thouhts
And never through ones request
Something to prove to yourself
Through this it is not the answer

If you've ever had a thought
Express through mind and maybe you'll find another

What we used to do as a tradition
Is now lost as a condition
When we used to listen
We now only hear
This is a message

Ive watched you weap
Bemoan in subtlety, without reason
Attempt to give light on an obsidian subject

Ive seen you bicker and cross swords
A struggle felt for miles
Have our confrontations meant nothing to you
Does venom foreshadow death

Ive seen you pass away
Day by day, its all the same

But am I the mad one?
Questioned by clans
When all I see is taunt discourse as if we're docking on long suppressed dreams

If it had been somewhere else, we'd hide a fixed eye to the occasion

Load the cartridge
Pull the trigger
Ignite cannons
**** the innocence
Have we lost our minds