Two cars, separate, the people inside would never meet outside of this,
A young woman, her name will not be spoken here.
She was reckless, but she didn’t intend cruelty.
She was trying to get home
Now in the second car, the girl and her mother were headed to a funeral, out of province
They never made it, and their family are now planning another.
You will not know the two who fell, but
An entire little town in Canada will remember where they once walked.
A sister, a daughter, at 21, now an orphan.
She will not recover.
The uninjured woman, her kids will not soon forget
What she was willing to do.
I am not saying to lock the woman away forever,
Maybe she wasn’t capable of ******,
Maybe she’d never hurt a fly,
Maybe she loves her kids, but today, she did not.
Do we forgive, and forget something like this?
I know her name,
And the orphan will forever know her name
But I will swear, to whatever god, to whatever I can find,
She may be forgiven, she may run
But this is more than her.
With any say,
I will never be stained,
With another human’s life.

Imagine what the history books will say
Looking back on this time we’re in
What will the verdict be for this day?
Will we toast to our glory,
or be shamed by our sin?

I wield a non-physical entity buried underneath
subcutaneous tissue, muscles, and bones.
I can animate the principles of a living being with ease.
Though the essence of my soul is at war
with its own morality.
All the different aspects of me leak from my pores,
they burn my skin as if they weren't just a part of me.
others clash together and form into something unrecognizable.
I am in a battle between words and sensations.
A plethora of conflicts placed within me.
I am just an Individual.
I am one person and I hold the guilt of my innocence.
Hopefully one day the scales may tip in my favor.
I've thought of waving the white flag
having the potential to survive physical death.
I am a delicate being.
know that there's more inside of me
than what I allow you to see.

At night hours
When moonlight glows
I come by the sea
I look at its costs
In the deep I see shining richness of salt
On the other side -
- millions of grains of sand
Which reflects the glow casted by sun
Shining with secrets keepen thru times

Which foots had stomped you
Artist, poet, king?
Which body is buried beneath you
Soldier, priest or nun?

As the sun rules over daylight, our happiness, lives and time
The moon keeps silent watch under the darkest sky
One of them skorches water with relentless heat
The other calms down the tides, restoring ordeal

Just like people
Ones burning with desire
Won't stop from anything, even incincerating you with fire
Others - silent, gentle folks
Come out at the night, sheltering from the fervour

As I'm walking down the shore
At the day I have to turn back from the blinding waters glow
But at the night I can freely admire beauty of sea
As moon restores its peace and returns dignity

Does it really matter?
What I think or do?
Does it really matter?
How carelessly I treat you?

Flick a fly, squash insects, 
Pull roots from a tree.
Take drugs, steal, ****
Does any of this matter to you or me?

Wipe the sleep from our eyes,
Stir our conscience,
Remember why we’re here!
Being present to bring presence.

Today matters.
What we say and do,
Leaves an imprint far greater 
Than virtuality: current reality, thinks is true.

People who claim they're evil are usually no worse than the rest of us. But it's those who claim to be good that can be the most deceiving and cunning.

Their acts of kindness and generosity, a veil they wear, Concealing the shadows lurking beneath, their true intentions unfair.

For in their hearts lies a darkness, carefully concealed, Hidden behind a mask of virtue, their true selves unrevealed.

They manipulate and deceive, with a smile upon their face, Using their supposed goodness, to take advantage and embrace.

@nolongerumano

everyone won’t feel like me
or think like I do
my morality is my strongest suit
it comes with heavy guilt at times
but I think I always do the right thing
in the end

Shadows dance along walls
Cold, undulating fire
Threatens to suffocate
My thoughts,—I go on walks
Outside, the golden leaves
Know how to be better.

A dormant forest sees
Balance between forces,
Ever-changing seasons,
The purposeful movement
Of critters and giants.

Is the forest moral?
Wolves know moderation
Better than most of us.
My reason breaks:
Do humans still bother
With being good
These days?