We have left our past completely behind
No longer able to live in the present
Always looking for something new to find

We've burned our history and its branches that extend
Say we cherish the tree as we bite into its burning apple
And cut it down every day, with no end

We give our attention to a small thing for a day, like the apple now rotten
But the next day our focus will have decreased
And by a year it will be completely forgotten

As a society, we are forced to move on
And wander away from everything we loved
And everything you hold dear is now long gone

We swear, but can't bear the remembrance of all
We lie, we try to forget the small
We leave, we grieve to solely grow tall

And we break, we take from the world we've won
We'd stop admiring, and firing a book rather than a gun
And we've chased, and replaced, to get closer to the sun

And we've forever been progressing, moving farther and farther away
That now, in the end, not even time will be there to stay

We all leave our footprints on the golden sand
As we take our final breath from this land
Some leave their step close to the water
Some have wept over the death of their son or daughter
So the ones closest to the shore
Will be washed away by a wave
They'll drown and die without asking for more
And give up their final chance to be saved
But some people leave their final footprints further away
Just for a little while longer, they can admire the day
Then they'll see the rest of society drowning in their aquatic fame
Then ask themselves if they should've done the same
But you must leave your mark on this world
Or else you'll be washed away
And you have to live for yourself
Or this world will make you pay
Would you rather leave your mark, or pleasantly drown?
Would you rather leave this world by yourself, or your whole town?
Do you also want to wear society's sea-blue gown?
So when you swim, society will drag you down,
But it is up to you to make sure you don't drown.

Oh, how I dreamed of those firefly nights
And our playful games and fights
With the setting of the sun, through the fields we'd run

I remember those memories vividly
But they can no longer be
They are now owned by the past and can no longer last

And now me and my friends have grown up
Yet I still feel stuck
To go back, I yearn, just to return

And one day I was granted a wish
Then with a pop and a swish
I returned to what was mine, I traveled back in time

I returned to that firefly night
But nobody was in sight
They all moved on, they all were gone

They all grew up from day to day
And not even time was there to stay
And I was forever alone in the place I used to call home

She rustles her feathers, fluttering as she twists and tethers.

Three white dots on her tail, wings with bravery that will never fail.

Perched on a high branch to hide from us below; is she really scared, or is it because it's all she know?

With chirps harmonically right, I wonder if they continue throughout the night

With black, beady eyes she views us all, wondering if it's an illusion when she stands tall

She was little once, like we all were. I wonder how much she's had to endure?

But now she is silent, gone, ran from fear, going anywhere to escape from here.

We humans have given her nothing but a scare. How, I wonder, how can this be fair?

The king sat upon his throne
Announcing ideas in the gentlest of tone

The people disagreed, and they fought back
But aggression was something the king had lacked

They rioted with pitchforks and torches
The king saw them yell out each night on their porches

And eventually, they set the castle ablaze
The king fled without even being fazed

He found the kindest people under the trees
The opportunity to build a new kingdom he had to seize

The palace could prosper with the right support
Unlike the old one, which could only distort

So he built with the people, leaving his mark
Until his eyesight started to go dark

He woke up in his old, burning palace again
Surrounding by the sound of illogical, angry men

He realized his prosperous castle was only a desire
“It was merely a dream,” he thought, as his skin lit on fire.

I tell them to watch a movie- that one when the sun sets like aloe on their scalded skin, that one where after sunset, the guy kills himself. 

But I don't tell them that part, I simply lather the lotion thicker, suffocate their burn and boast about the healing powers of cinema I so humbly wish to share.

In honesty, there is little need for conviction as I so kindly spread love on their wound, proposing the perfect solution, a comforting press to the chest.

On condition, they are instructed to watch alone; travel to Ankara and snuggle beneath cloudy blue skies. They must take extra care. And under no circumstances should they tamper with the blooming blisters- they should let the summer breeze do all the work. 

They trust me, pathetically, even as the hours wane on, even as my waxy ointment melts to oily paraffin and slips far, far away from the wound. 

I doubt that they even notice, but I know that with five minutes to spare, all hope of healing will be held out of reach- especially as my soothing facade shatters beneath blinding strobes, as my fibs fade and salt sprinkles their skin with the promise of a permanent scar, fragile tissue that will surely wither with the sun for an eternity to come. 

The credits roll and so do the tears, until their cheeks are so stained, so branded with hollowness that all left to do is howl out for the end to near.

Now, they feel like I do, and we will suffer a lifetime of sorrow in unity. It makes me feel a little better.