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Ryland Pietras Jan 2014
With my head in the clouds,
I realize life is transient,

Every moment is brief,
Every action is momentary.

Life is constantly evolving around you,
It is impossible and naive,

To wish for things to remain the same,
Wish for something new,

For experiences that leave you dazzled,
And make you feel alive.

Look at the clouds and the stars.
For what is real and what isn’t,

Especially for what you don’t believe to be real.
If you can find that,

Then you will find what is real.
I am alive.

The horizon has no end,
Find the mountains made of clouds.
Ryland Pietras Jan 2014
White, voluptuous heaps ripple across the fervent, upper air,
Like the waves of hallucinations,

That envelop my temporal being in the midnight hour.
The essence of time contemplated,

While traversing these polarized manifestations.
The heaps roll for miles,

As the waves come crashing down,
Only to wash up forgotten memories,

That have sailed the oceans of time.
Fears and dreams coalesce and create some unknown entity,

Buried deep within the ocean.
A lucky collective has been able to reap the rewards of this unknown marvel,

And with it, they’ve tried to share the bounty,
but the ones with whom they’ve tried cannot fathom this treasure,

For it is only a dream to them,
Something they’ve lost deep within the ocean.

— The End —