the metaphor for the phenomenons of the world
who we come to for advice, guidance, wisdom
i can’t find my way
i have no faith
but i’m searching

Before I could remember
I was lost, and without myself
having no one else
How could it be lonely?
For no one was even there,
At least I wasn't

"I'll take time to find myself"
Never something I asked,
But it wasn't a choice, or a need
I found myself in feeling the stars
While the sand brought me to reality
The sunset wasn't warm, it was leaving

As it left, an inverse shadow
Burned into my memory, a time of company
And loneliness flooded my room
Loneliness of not finding my way out
And i found the coldest was the potential of warmth
Fall found me and the snow fell around us

In illusion, once again,
Looking in your eyes, I lost myself
But I wasn't alone-
Little did I know
that I would find myself
in you.

Personal Devil spouting whispers directly into my consciousness.
Streamlined for exaggerated effect.
The internal constant critic of every action and thought.
Highlighting what could have been better in a way so far from constructive I'd need to update my passport to have a chance to see positivity.
Never harping on what was good, what was done exceptionally well.
Only dissatisfied with how it wasn't perfect.
The stark reminder that my toxic self is standing right behind me.

Following the path less taken
Over all the low roads and
Routes plummeting towards the craven
Gateways of Hell takes the travelers
Into enlightenment. Those who avoid Satan's
Vengeance and forked whispers
Emerge from the waters of the lake in
Nature's womb veiled in holy layers
Encompassing their soul. This ache in
Society seeps into the bones of naysayers
Slandering the purging powers of equal pardon.

Within the realm of unplayed instrumentation
a crescendo of specific notes are lost
dangling on high maple branches during autumn leaf change
and only divots below the mowed through grassy soil
throughout segregated quarantine reserves
partitions of divorced land
In the bottom of a child’s backpack

so heart jarring and singularly dedicated to the wandering dreamer harboring any thoughts of doubt about what is and what might inhibit the coming up next

covering over wooden plank necks with strings of primitive notation drafted inside the woods create,
rows of ivory keys and ebony flats,  
this includes either screeching or murmuring brass buttons can make
And depending on the blow

Lead based letters
Squeezed together grammar and prose
have no window to grandstand
in a duel verses this one climb of instrumental verse
these missing tones are in tangible reaches
could even be in a soft mother’s dream waiting to be awoken to bring an awakening

Who will seek and find this group of lost tones with striking nuances so spirit soothing
that seeing the mere future is old news
but instilling, feeling, and describing the true meaning of life after hearing what is under, inside and above this crest of colored resonance of tonal pitch...

Or maybe it can insight a minor confidence in the one who lacks it to take that small step forward
Ensuring another step

This is one who will hear this