As my family gather around me
I feel their whispers of insecurity
Thoughts of past events racing through my head.
As I lay here dying on my bed
Drifting in and out of disturbed sleep
I hear the sounds of my wife weep
Telling stories of my life events and past
My childhood memories drifting so fast.
Of happy long summers and never ending winters.
My life breaking up into tiny little splinters
Talks of greed and if I made a will.
The only thoughts are the pockets they can fill
Heated conversation and unsettled voices
I am forgotten about while they make their own choices
Someone shouts out where are his deeds
My thoughts and sounds now coming in short feeds.
My breathing now slow as I drift into eternal sleep
Family still talking of what they will reap
As I awake into a glorified light
Away and at peace from all of the fight
To an eternal life away from corruption and greed
My pain and suffering now finally freed

He found himself living in apartment 3
Then he moved to apartment 33
From there he travelled abroad
Only to return
Now he lives in room 7
He thought it would've been a house
Though the smallest of all
From this room 7 ... Magic flows
Up into the heavens
It reaches so far
Beyond the stars
The real stars
Not mortal beings who claim to be so
At night if you look closely
You shall observe an electric blue streak
Reaching upwards towards the sky
See to whence it leads
This line requires no phone
And shall remain uninterrupted
Until one day
He shall go to where this blue streak leadeth

I haven't written about desire
In a little while,
Ever just want to feel
Someone's presence?
Someone's soft skin against your own?
That's my desire
I guess i'm starved for affection which is what's causing
This strange inflection
To my words written and thought out
But with no doubt
Desire is a powerful weapon
An animal not to be tamed or contained
Desire... it can drive some people up more walls than a spider.

In the distance, I observe
hoping to discover them raw feelings
our souls serve.
Sometimes without even warning us.

We fall but we don't break,
and when we break we feel
like we're falling.

Always in the distance,
I observe.

I've often noticed numerous features
Many of which are on gardeners and bakers and preachers
But I have never even mentioned my own
Many peers of mine point them out to the teachers
To be silent and observe is what I am prone

I find listening and watching much more meticulous
I realise they don't understand how I stay quiet during the day
For they all speak and sound quite ridiculous
I think they may soon learn of what they say
At least I hope, I can never say for sure when they may

Deep is the pain you think to be true
The curse of past time we keep building upon as if new
We cannot escape the lives we haven’t lived
For the one we live emerges from those that did
A conscious experience is a new thing indeed
But do we share this cursed gift with a bird in a tree
If so, is life just a massive observer?
Thinking its thoughts in an expanding circle
Deep is the joy you think to be true
Just don’t let this feeling turn into a cure