Storming tidal waves break the bank of my mind,
and overwhelm me in this ruthless urban sea.

Lost hope and optimism manifesting ideas of dying alone and accepting diving below.  

Yet, it's the end,
finally, I can rest my friend
from my failed life plan.

Dash and escape from the cruelty of today's humankind, just let the worries dissipate aside.

Such terror stalks upon my psyche,
hunting for the chance to say the final goodbye.

I've committed too many egregious sins to kin, friend, and lovers,
I have nothing left to discover.

****** in by a whirlpool of pride,
yet still, can only emotionally hide.

I took beauty for granted,
my view was so convoluted and slanted,
a false conveying of intellect that was pure and enchanted.  

I stand at the edge of an emotional vortex but it won't take me in, it wouldn't listen and too empathetic,
trying to erase my believed personal reflection; I'm a maniac.

It repeated to me: "it's never too late, just one last fate, one last call, one last human experience of love is all".  

Whirlwinds of splashing water **** me in and burrow me below the salty fuming crashes.

I hold my breath,
as I begin the dance of death,
flooded again by past my mistakes, pains, and regrets.

To my surprise, just before my demise,
a smile arrives,
relaxation resides,
my mind has been unlocked, it is free and finally no longer paralyzed.

I rise as if a crystal ball.
I'm the one in control of it all,
all it took was one leap, crawl, and natural law.  

Experiences that will still last a lifetime,
no matter their arrival time,
they mold us into a new design,
and become pure the happiness inside.

It is love. The most malleable force of all.
Human's true call.
Natures own law.
An insatiable draw.

Follow that internal call, even if you fall.

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.