If i could write the world a song
it would start with a drop
all pray for it never to stop
the people would join in on the melody,
they would all belong
every word that was uttered would make you fall in love
no one would be waiting for heaven above

there would be no insecurity,
no violence,
no doubt

There would be nothing you were living without
it would make you start wanting to live for today
and let you get over the fears of yesterday

when the song would end the world would stop
it would no longer feel like a ticking clock
the birds would still sing
and the wind would still blow
why the song ended no one would know

but from that day on goodness would flow
through the wounds of the people, the world used to know
this song would show how its ok to fail
but if you keep on singing you'll surely prevail

so don't stop singing my wondrous song
because believe it or not you DO BELONG

The prince of the
underworld
A land whose up is down
Had a hammering heart
A noise that won’t quiet
Down

Shunned and despised by
the rest
He clawed endlessly at
his chest
Until his heart gave its
Last beat
And he slept forever in
defeat

these days, shining a light
In the darkness
Is harder than it sounds.
But don't give up.
There are still people
Looking to be found

The cracking of your bones,
sounds you hear when you crouch.
Trying to protect yourself from whom?
Your spine can bend
and extend
no further, protruding out
ready to snap, you twist and you moan and you groan
when will this stop?


You feel as frail as a bird
One that has fallen after its very first flight


The cracks are what you hear
when hope is lost.
You feel like your weakening will
can weaken
no further.


stop
just stop.


Listen here
Don’t listen to yourself breaking
Don’t slip through these cracks
Standing up is now your cause
Hope is not lost
So sit up and straighten your back


The more you crouch, the more it hurts
That corner you’re attached to is not your solace
or quiet place
you crouch there, only in the cold embrace
of your crumpled shirt


Corners don’t shelter you from your fears;
they cage you in with them.
They widen and stretch the cracks on your skin
Allowing pain and judgement to seep in
Cracks are gateways letting the water in…
Water that dampens your flame, your fire
and Hope
a precious thing


You’re hidden yet left wide open
Stuck in purgatory
This liminal hell
You hear the tolling of your own death knell


Are these cracks the
pain before your rebirth
the shedding and flaking
of your skin
which will leave you behind, a rejuvenated being?


You decide if these cracks will only exist
as a reminiscence of the passing pains
or will your thoughts dictate
that these cracks originate
from the epicentre of who you are?


Will you let this cancer-like spreading of the cracks continue?
Or will you stand up and straighten your back
To close up the cracks
and save you from You