i adore everyone's masterpiece;
awed by the metaphors they used,
the poetic lines they spilled,
and the emotions they cried
i adore all of it
but why can't i adore 
my own droplets of poems i wept?

You had
To go
Through
It all
So you
Could
Become
Who you are
Today

I have a daydream in my mind.
It replays nonstop in my mind and has become a guilty habit of mine to revel in as my family lives on so blissfully unaware.
Many times I daydream of what if I was to erase myself from this life, I know it is a sign of depression but I have no other way to cope and manage this mania.
Many other times I daydream of leaving my current life, packing my bags and never looking back as the few people who care about me wonder where I am.
I am so guilty of so many selfish thoughts.
I know if I were to reveal how impure I am I would be turned away from and receive false pity.
So I want to be a coward and run away from what ails me.
I know it will leave unresolved problems no matter what dream I choose but I can not help but live a hypocritical life this way.
To erase is what I dream.

I’m in love with an angel
one who lit the entire night sky even when she couldn’t see the light herself
her heart held love
for every living thing except herself
I guess maybe she just ran out of space  
this angel would fight for you or for me
every opportunity she got
but she never stood a chance in saving herself

Verse:

Lofty darkness
Specks of obscured suns
Drooping light
Columns of lucid stars

Desert waves
I cannot tell if they are mountains
Or oceans
Desolate woodlands
We suffocate in the verdant and then
We’re forgotten

Chorus:

The desperation of the lost
Is not the emptiness of the barren
But unable to be found among the crowd
Obscurantist songs are rarely fully sung
For it may be above all, but none can reach
And none can teach
An incomprehensible truth
Is shapelessly hopeless
Is shapelessly hopeless  
Is shapelessly hopeless  

Bridge:

Like a pied enchanter, veiled and barely seen
With confidence unchallenged, he gestures deceit
As if waving alms of miracles so easily gained
Under dark carnival tents, quietly anticipating
The wonder of dazzling illusion, so fearfully arcane
The spectators kneel and bow to the ‘forged’ king

Verse:

Field of barley
Glares with gold utilitarianly  
River of humility
Ever ready to fulfill all thirst and needs

Stars faint and hazy
Only the clearest is used for guiding
Sunlight warm and cozy
Never bares itself for the elite only

Chorus:

The desperation of the lost
Is not the emptiness of the barren
But unable to be found among the crowd
Obscurantist songs are rarely fully sung
For it may be above all, but none can reach
And none can teach
And incomprehensible truth
Is shapelessly hopeless
Is shapelessly hopeless  
Is shapelessly hopeless  

Bridge:

Like a pied enchanter, veiled and barely seen
With confidence unchallenged, he gestures deceit
As if waving alms of miracles so easily gained
Under dark carnival tents, quietly anticipating
The wonder of dazzling illusion, so fearfully arcane
The spectators kneel and bow to the ‘forged’ king

CODA:

I’d rather be the ragged elder of solitary certainty
With sifts of wisdom and time, real grains filtering
Under the pure blue sky, the orange field gleaming
Watch over these substances over form fermenting
Would you rather have too much sugar till aching
Or let spirits pure send you to more pleasant dreams