Internal flames sustain the charring coals of misery.

Heat so intense,
the molten source of such bewitchery seems contradictory.

As time ends the landscape bends.
Seeps.
Melts.
No hope for new discovery.

Personal freedom and liberty are now things of history.

Ideas and dreams stuck in protohistory,
nothing left,
zero energy,
abstinence of synergy.

Death. The bittersweet valedictory.
Lost ideas of mystery. The mystery that
only the silent soul can hold the final sole victory too.

Time is tragically still
and the air is frigid.

I've now begun to settle from my past state
of pure livid,
anger I can't live with.

With the mastering of calm and meditative breathing
the stress melts away.
I'm constantly watching it slowly decay.

Control back on my side
as I suddenly feel
the odd sensation of content inside.

Coping and alive,
and somehow,
still,
I thrive.

As endless currents and swells
take on the sea in peace,
humanity seeks such power.

If humanity could consume such salty power
we would view it as ours, with full intent to make it ours.

Humanity would leave endless scars.

Drink the power,
no clue how far,
but it's ours.

How wrong we are,
as we've already gone this far.
Mother Nature always fights with a vengeance.

Humans aren't among the stars,
we're still so far.

The balancing of Nature us inevitable
and always leaves behind authentic scars.

One succumbs to holistic approaches when the pain inside is no longer benign.

Diligently trying every approach, to no avail.
Losing battle after battle can but only drain the mind.

Looking for any way out without a spiritual guide or loss of pride,
using self-discovery as the palette to becoming purified.

Suddenly, emotions collide.
Critical emotions that one must recognize,
and humbly abide, and gracefully leave behind.

Horrified and magnified, the trials are monumental.
Inner-thoughts judgemental.
Until it all becomes clear,
you decide when to become transcendental.

One must never depart their fight from emotional apartheid.

When aware of the daily barrage of mental damage we endure, one can see their own personal internal genocide,
the pain inside.

Unveiled roots, deep within the soil, suddenly crackle and split after one cleans the inner-self.
Calmy dusting off the cranial bookshelf.

Clean from self-doubt, and done inflicting the avoidable self-pain, the daily drains, of ones brain, can no longer lay claim.

All too often the view is bleak,
generations under scrutiny and constant critique.

When all that lies within is misery,
all it might take is a tweak.

A new perspective.

A new technique.

To open the mind and think.

All too often we're blind to the beauty surrounding,
it can enlighten and be astounding.

Your spirit begins grounding.

A different view that seems to be organically compounding,
and tears fall as life's true nature becomes clear and resounding.

Still and aware now as the energy begins to stir,
my racing thoughts now begin to slur.

Consistent practice has titled me connoisseur.

A silencer.

Free from my past saboteur.

We all "were",
and next step must occur.