“Energy can
neither be created nor destroyed
But it can be transformed”,
Textbook says

Years after, I realize,
Love is that energy
And it can be felt, and
Reflected.

No one ever wish to see,
Debris of Love
Rubbles of Love
In divinity it resides

Paradox airs
War, for Peace
Fuel, of Crash
Let’s find a new way
To conserve the energy

A call for humanity.

Tears flow down her face.
Agony from recent past, she clings to like a drowning body floating at sea.
Useless debris.
There's a taste of  duality in all things.
A sorrow reality can bring.  
Though this is a mere moment in time it seems like it is everything. How does one gauge pain if it is something we hope not to be remembering?

She lets herself became jaded, a heart slowly turning to stone. Heading down a path she lets herself believe she knows.
She lets herself believe she knows all there is to know.
If she takes a wrong turn there could be more suffering, or more joy then she would have otherwise know.
Who really knows which way to go?

"Come clean before coming undone" - said the mirror, then melted in the room.
It flowed down from the wall, billowed the room,
and moved across the hallway.
Broken skin like a mildewy smell, disgraced by this voiced-out message,
the iron hill became too twisted and our moments in time,
like debris in the pure water on their way to float to nowhere.

As a kid I found a hammer,
But I knew not how to use it.
I carried it everywhere
Like most girls carried
Barbies.

Then I saw a few men
Use their hands thrashing walls.
The walls stayed intact
But their knuckles
Deformed.

So I learnt a new trick
I waved my hammer like a wand,
And ran through the town
Entering buildings, breaking
People.

When the violence in the world ended,
I tried to caress people
But instead I hit them hard.
Then I realized my hands were the
Hammer.

So I thrashed the mirror first
To see how it could feel.
I saw it broke, the world stayed intact.
So with my hands I bashed my
Head.