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Show me how the truth looks like
before I cover my mind with a lie,
Show me how to breathe, when
my pulse is about to die,
Show me how to believe, when
you are the one who breaks my trust,
Show me how to love, when
the surroundings are covered in lust,
Show me how to live, when
my ray of living has ceased to fall upon,
Show me how to look up, when
the mornings are dusky not a breaking dawn,
Show me how to rise up, when
you are the one pushing me down,
Show me how to smile, when
my boy makes me frown,
Show me how to care, when
my palm is deprived of your face,
Show me how to bear, to
not live in your embrace,
Show me the way, the path to those doors,
The doors above, that's all i want, I want no more,
I yield to those stairs, the stairs to eternity,
I'm walking, walking towards God almighty,
I have no hope, I am a phoenix bereft of its ashes,
I am perishing into perpetuity to never come up to
these wounds and rashes*.
.
i have no real dreams to speak of
i speak of my nightmares even less
i am just trying to reach the peak of
that mountain, where i am blessed

material goals aren't what i talk of
spiritual goals, i talk of more
i am just trying to walk the walk of
those spirits who walked before
Misty gaze, jittered breath
Sun burned skin ironed to stop the creases.
The fly never ceases to change direction
it follows mightily close.
Boxed into a shadow, one which no one else can see
How can that be?
Claim the sights as mine or ours?
Leave to follow mans created hasty pursuit
Chasing the everlasting scent of the poisoned flower.

The big man has too many sayings, creates etchings with his words
Repeatedly lost in the background of distasteful play,
All numbers numerate to a phantom deal
Answers long slipped under broken tables.
Open fields are searched like space,
Meteors fly spitting fire with gunshots
Shining towards an illusion of a finish line.
Crawl westwards some will say, crawl right, or jump and hit the explosive beckoning.
Ask this night
to moon
our desire's song
-
cause loving  is the best part of falling
cause falling is the painful part of waiting
cause waiting is the best part of hoping
and hoping is the painful part of bleeding*

©IGMS
As a leaf of your tea
I fall into it
As a blow of its aroma
that is sent with the green wind
I pleasure it
The crust of thick memories
crumbles into pure essences
nourishing all that is
It hides behind rain
a visible remorse of
suspended sky
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