If you ever feel lost think of this:
Every time we look at the night sky,
We’re looking at as many moments in time as the number of celestial bodies we see;
And we’re witnessing a long history of the universe.
Some of these stars aren’t as bright anymore,
It’s been millennia since they sent out this particular beam that you’re sensing.
Now, if a moment in time is so lost in itself that it doesn’t even represent “a moment in time”,
But rather many many moments woven together,
Then how lost can you be?
We’re here now, at a point in the dimensions of space-time that cannot truly be defined.
While you’re feeling lost, the universe is losing itself too.
While you immerse yourself in the wonders of the universe,
The universe is commiserating with you.
It is just as lost as you are.
And we’re all as lost as the universe.
So, by extension, we’re all just as lost as you,
And nobody knows anything apart from this:
That this is a moment in time.
But you and I, we know more:
We know that this is a moment when together,
You and I are witnessing a million other moments along with this one. And losing ourselves in this moment is amazing.
Feeling lost suddenly seems like a good thing.
Because I’m lost with you, and the universe is with us.

When everything that happens, happens too fast;
And everyone that loved you once, leaves you at last…
While you drown in the river of fears and in the sea of despair,
Can you see the faint ray of hope that’s still up there?

While your own imagination rips you into shreds,
Are you still able to hold your own in everything that you dread?
As in-head conversations, and nightmares, and reality, all just get mixed up…
What can I do to stop myself getting lost?

When I spend hours torturing myself, believing that someone is dead,
How can I just ignore all that’s going on in my head?  
You tell me to look at others’ misery and just be glad that I’m not there;
But why do you think I can revel in another’s despair?

While I spend all my time, trying to think straight,
You don’t even tell me, that I can change my fate.
As I just embroil myself, in absolute terror,
Why can’t you tell me, that things will get clearer?

Every new fact that’s found, leads to more fear,
And all at once, I’ve shed every single tear.
Now I’m too tired to even just sit and cry,
And all of my emotions are slowly running dry…

I can’t recognize any feelings anymore,
I just know that my heart is so sore.
And I’m angry, afraid and sad all at once,
And all I can do now is hope life gives me another chance.

Another chance at a carefree tomorrow,
A chance at a day not filled with sorrow.
A day I’m not terrified of everything unknown,
One day, when my heart doesn’t feel like a heavy stone.

I just wish that I could lose myself in imaginary places,
Places where all I can see are friendly faces.
Where anyone can hold me close when the panic sets in,
Where someone, at least, can say the right thing.

Does that place exist outside of my mind,
Is that place real, somewhere I can find?
Dare I to hope that I’ll be there someday?
Until then, may I ask you to stay?

When everything that happens, happens too fast;
And everyone that loved you once, leaves you at last…
While you drown in the river of fears and in the sea of despair,
Can you see the faint ray of hope that’s still up there?

While your own imagination rips you into shreds,
Are you still able to hold your own in everything that you dread?
As in-head conversations, nightmares and reality, all just get mixed-up;
What can I do to stop myself getting lost?

When I spend hours torturing myself, believing that someone is dead,
How can I just ignore all that’s going on in my head?  
You tell me to look at others’ misery and just be glad that I’m not there;
But why do you think I can revel in another’s despair?

While I spend all my time, trying to think straight,
You don’t even tell me, that I can change my fate.
As I just embroil myself, in absolute terror,
Why can’t you tell me, that things will get clearer?

Every new fact that’s found, leads to more fear,
And all at once, I’ve shed every single tear.
Now I’m too tired to even just sit and cry,
And all of my emotions are slowly running dry…

I can’t recognize any feelings anymore,
I just know that my heart hurts at its core.
And I’m angry, afraid and sad all at once,
And all I can do now is hope life gives me another chance.

Another chance at a carefree tomorrow,
A chance at a day not filled with sorrow.
A day I’m not terrified of everything unknown,
One day, when my heart doesn’t feel like heavy stones.

I just wish that I could lose myself in imaginary places,
Places where all I can see are friendly faces.
Where anyone can hold me close when the panic sets in,
Where someone, at least, can say the right thing.

Does that place exist outside of my mind,
Is that place real, somewhere I can find?
Dare I to hope that I’ll be there someday?
Until then, may I ask you to stay?

With a heart that bleeds fire,
And eyes that spit flame;
Caught in the trap of a liar,
He walks the crowded lane.

Of a mind made only to ****,
He walks through the town;
And nobody dares or ever will,
To bring that hunter down.

But hunter though he is for sure,
He has been hunted out;
By the liar that brought him here,
He has been hurt, no doubt.

Yes, he's hurt: the proud hunter there,
But his fire burns brightly still,
And maybe he's hurt beyond repair,
But with fire, his eyes do fill.

"The hunter would be the hunted"
That's what they used to say,
And now the truth has been noted,
For so it is today.

I know I ought to knock on doors; who doesn’t?
But I’m way too blind to see the door,
And far too stupid to realize that what I’m knocking on is a wall.

You don’t answer my knocks. Of course you don’t; why would you?
You would, of course, have answered a knock on the door,
But why; why would you answer my pathetic little knock on the wall?

You won’t. I know you never will.
But still, I keep knocking.
Even though I know you won’t answer.

You probably don’t even hear my knocks.
But I knock relentlessly. Of course I do!
I have nowhere else to go, no other place to knock.

And maybe, maybe
If I knocked on someone else’s wall, they’d answer.
Maybe, just maybe,
If I went to find someone as friendless as me, they would let me in.

But I don’t. Because I want YOU to be my friend.
No one else.
But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t find the door into your life.

I’m knocking on one part of the wall after another,
Hoping, always hoping,
That someday, someday I’ll come across the door.
And praying, always praying
That you’ll answer that knock on that day, even if you don’t answer any other.

In this little fragment, where love seems scarce,
In this little fragment, where lovers feel out of place,
I'm going to pour my heart out, into a heavy rain,
A rain you can dance in, 'til you're free of pain.
Until the moment arrives, when love is all you see,
I am going to love you with all that's left of me.
I'm going to pour myself on you, so that you'll someday feel fine,
I'm always going to love you, with everything that's mine.

You are the poetry that my pen sends forth;
The twinkle in your ever-curious eye,
Is the only star I see every night.

You, my dear,
Are the beauty I can't describe
For nothing I write
Comes close to you, try as I might.

I sing of the cosmos,
And that much is all I can do,
But even that beauty pales before you,
For you, my dear,
Are the only universe I know for sure.

In the deep shadows of loneliness, there was someone waiting to befriend you.
Too shy to approach you first, she hid there,
Just as lonely as you were in that moment.
You looked around, in the middle of the room,
Where there was a faint light.
You looked for a friend, but she remained where she was.
She was afraid that you wouldn’t like her;
She feared that you wouldn’t want to be her friend.
Hiding in the shadows, she heard you call out to anyone present.
Then she came out.
Slowly, stealthily, like a cat prowling in the darkness,
She came out into the light.
But by that time, you had given up search.
You sat there with your back to her.
She knew. She just knew that you were crying.
Still, she was afraid to talk first.
But seeing you so sad, she overcame her fears,
And sat there next to you, feeling all your fears and loneliness.
She took your face in her little hands,
And wiped out your tears, even as her own escaped her eyes.
In that moment, you were friends.
She cared. And you did too.
You put your big, strong arm around her sagged shoulders,
Offering comfort; offering the assurance that she so desperately needed. Words, in that moment, would have meant nothing.
But you took one look at one another,
And both understood that words were not required.

One stolen moment, to be treasured forever,
The first; the last: now and then never.
Tonight, two hands join together, into a little fist,
The memories of this moment, to fade away like mist.
But in my mind, this is a moment engraved in stone,
The memory of the night, you refused to leave me alone.
I hold your hand, like a child might,
While you look ready to take flight.
Fly you would; but never without me,
Being yours is the best I can hope to be.

I see a solitary source of light far, far away.
But I’m not sure I’ll live to see it another day.
I travel on, on a windy desert night,
Trying to find the one source of light.

The closer I come, the farther it goes.
Is it really light? Or will it add to my woes?
Water is scarce to come across, and so is food,
The solitary source of light gets my hopes renewed.

Maybe when I get to the light, I can get a drink,
And maybe a hearty meal, and I can sleep a wink.
Hoping the carriers of the light are what I wish for,
That they’ll take care of me, and then I’ll worry no more.

But dreams are dreams: and the light’s afar,
Shining out to me like a distant star.
A star that glows ever so bright,
But from the ground, comes my source of light.

The hopes of catching the “star” propel me forward,
The solitary source of light, calls me onward.
But will I ever reach it now?
I need to get there, and I’m learning how.

But even as I learn, I’m losing my will,
For I’m not getting closer, and my heart won’t still.
The light still calls out to me,
In a language I can only see.

And a compelling need pushes me on,
But, in an instant, the light is gone.
Now I’m lost, I don’t know where to go,
But then I realize, I’ve reached a mountain full of snow.

The light has gotten me out of that lonely land,
And now I focus on the only task at hand.
Taking fistfuls of snow, I shove it down my throat,
And a little farther away, I see a mountain goat.

The goat then calls out to me,
In a  language I can only see,
So, I follow the goat again,
Like a puppy tied to a chain.

It leads me to a meadow green,
This is someplace I’ve never been.
The goat is lost and now I eat,
The flowers and the berries sweet.

I feel content and happy here,
But then I see a mighty hare.
And now the hare calls out to me,
In the language that I can only see.

The hare leads me into a forest dense,
Now I don’t know where I am, and hence,
I look around for someone to take the lead,
And soon enough, I see some geese.

I follow the geese that call out to me,
In the language that I can only see.
But they fly far above the ground,
And lead me to where I can’t be found.

Now, in the night as dark as cold,
I see the light from times of old.
The light again calls out to me,
In a language I can only see.

Following the light, that shows me a way,
I live on to see another day.
But in the morning that light is gone,
And prancing before me, is a fawn.

The faun now calls out to me,
In that language that I can see.
But this creature only wants me to play,
With him, I dance my day away.

When night falls, I’m tired and sore,
So I sleep: and in a dream I’ve seen before,
A path for me again I see,
Where nothing ever calls out to me.

When I wake to a bright blue sky,
I look around, and see a fly,
But the fly doesn’t speak to me;
In that language I can only see.

Now that the fly left me alone;
I’ve no guidance, I can’t get home.
Now I’m well and truly lost, I know,
With no one to guide me, I’ve nowhere to go.

This is definitely the first; and maybe the last:
I desperately hope it’s the only one.

This is poetry,
It is beauty.
Poetry is beauty;
And beauty? It’s poetry.

My dear, this is you.
To me, you’re beauty.
Beauty, in its very own essence,
Is poetry.

So you, my love,
Are poetry.