My parents love me verily, true,
Yet I still feel the need for love, truer.

In the deepest hour of night,
Dawns a realization that they are mortal,
Everyday I feel so scared,
Alone if I am to stay,
Loneliness will **** me.

Loved by parents I am, but
Often I am so alone,
Very sad is this heart,
Engraved deep inside it,
R**osy name of my ideal lover.

"Beneath the sky, above the grass un mowed and growing high.

There lives a quiet seamless wind, which whispers words in the back of my mind.

It questions me and my own being, and inquires as to if I am wasting my time.

Searching throughout humanity, for someone so practical and pure of heart, who I never was actually intended to find."

I don't say this much, but that's stupid
To waste your life creating things for someone else
When really all that I create is to learn about myself
To understand the other half, of the other side, of the other me
And to create something so foolishly
And to think that it represents most perfectly
Whatever it is that I did see
That perhaps was stupid of me

A beautiful notion isn't it?
Ironic even
The thought of waiting here like this
As if the act is somehow blessed with ease
When all around you is in motion
And you are as unstirring as the trees
Rooted deep within the mind
Looking at the other side
And seeing the blissful, beautiful ignorance
How often I wish it could be mine
That I had no such standards as this
And that I could swallow such a feeble line
Just like a fish
Nibbling on a willow wisp
In an ocean seemingly full of fish

Believe me…

I respect such idealism as this
Because I live with it
But to “just wait” and stay like this
At present holds little hope for me
Both to and from this someone else
There is no transfer, or passage of peace

Because these few years feel like an eternity

And so the term…
“The right one?”
Makes want to say...
“Oh please.”

If one word was to define who you were -
Not what you were like or how you come across -
But what and who you are,
I would strive for sincerity.
Capturing the nuance of being counter-cultural
(stark against the world we live in);
Honest to the point of perfect precision in what I say and mean;
Genuine in openness and lacking deceit;
Firm and unmoving against the tide;
Secure in the validity of that on which I stand;
Disciplined for integrity and truth;
Heartfelt and reliable (despite frequent shortcomings);
Prepared not only to go the distance but to run it,
To invest and care through thick and thin,
Not to forgo earnest in the buffering and buffeting;
Wholeheartedly honourable, the man others would wish to be;
Virtuous and steadfast in quality and character,
A rock to hold onto, a solid foundation,
A dedication to being authentic and true.
No false wax to the visage you see,
An artistic and inhuman ideal.
-
Sincerity has been under attack, besieged as an unachievable goal
In a world focused on the self - to be selfless seems foolishness.
Attention in this life lasts the sum amount of difficulties;
We flee from the floodplains when the river comes
Rather than endure and be refined by rich streams.
Sincerity does not crumble under commitment,
Nor erode in the face of effort:
Prepared to invest, forgoing instant gratification,
Persevering under pressure whilst all else fades.
It does not shrink from the fight but turns its cheek,
It forgives the slight and suffers for the lost,
It carries the cross for the rejected and the weak,
It sacrifices all it has at great personal cost,
It stands up to scrutiny when it stands for truth,
It lives and dies in unfathomable love.