I started out simple... Flat, plan, and white...

The first few folds were easy... But it's finished form was far from the light

"What is it? What is it?" They constantly asked

I didn't answer them, because I wasn't even sure if I was going to be able to complete this task.

I folded, twisted, and bended the paper in many ways

And when I had to throw it away... I heard laughter of great dismay

Continuous fails... At creating a sensitve beast

Different structures brought different problems with every crease

Doubted, Slandered for even trying, over something fragile and small

What threat could this Paper Dragon be? Into the trash it falls...

Origami is window that makes the weak paper stand out as strong

Conflict built its wall, Tension rested its tent, is what I'm doing wrong?

Hands stiff from determinations curse... At last it was finished

Excited to reveal my plan for such a magestic beast.. But too soon that was diminished

Although it was white and pure, its appearence and identity was shamed

"Why a dragon? A symbol of Satan, A sign of distruction, Hell as a name?"

Can you stop seeing me and the things I create all a symbol of darkness within me?

You say I am what I create, and I can't say that you're wrong. So this is what I want you to see

I am that dragon... You think all my words are out to melt and burn

You think I am strong enough and big enough to take on your drowning waves you think I've earned

But I am a Paper Dragon... I look strong and fierce... But I can rip so easily

A simple motion of pulling me in different directions can bring the end of me

I run to you with my webbed wings spreaded across the sun burst sky

Greeting you with a firey smile, and a glowing warm heart... And yet I'm despised

A sword is impaled through all the scales you assumed were tough

They surrendered as easily as paper... And down I went...only wanting to be loved

I am Paper Dragon... I'm not dangerous... I'm not evil or bad!!!

I am of creation!!!  If I use my ferious fire on you, it is to protect me from you... Which is sad...

I have been Labeled... Along with the things I create

Isn't it amazing? This majestic paper king of the fire in the sky... Can't you relate?

You call it a demon... You call it a mimic and a mockery of purity and light

... I AM A PAPER DRAGON, BLACK AND WHITE WINGS SPREAD WIDE AND BRIGHT

... If you don't want the fire the Lord has gifted me with to melt your ice...

Then alright... But I won't allow your waves to soak me and wash away this life...

I'll be perched on a hight mountain top, looking over you and your waves from a far distance...

You wonder why I'm so far away...  Why you feel so much resistence...

My glowing charcoal eyes you can still see... You grow more confused and ticked!!!

All because... Of this Paper Dragon Conflict...

my lies were thin paper,
not to mention easy to breach.
nevertheless, they were still guarded,
invisible to those who didn't reach.

but her lies were steel walls,
there wasn't any way inside.
they claimed there was no way to help her-
then again, had they ever really tried?

birds of a feather don't always stick together
at the beginning we stayed apart
i guess since we were both liars in the end
one day she opened her heart

she asked my why I bothered with her
as no one ever paid her a second thought
and the one time that someone else had gotten close
they pulled her heart's trigger and shot

i didn't have a verbal response waiting
i just smiled and pulled her close
she helped me to find the truth i had been looking for
she was who i needed the most

because by opening her heart, even just a crack
she taught me how to fly
by mending her heart, i learned how to love
and that you don't always have to lie

i prefer when
  the lines
     on
        my paper
            become a blur

When I write, my feelings are bare
Showing skin and colors
Stripping naked like the breezy autumn air.

When I write, I'm torn between a lot of things
Just like the innocence of a child being corrupted and tainted by what the world brings.

When I write, I feel like a warrior equipped for war
And the armor I have are pen and paper.

When I write, it feels refreshing
Just like the break of the dawn, full of hope and sun rays gleaming.

When I write, I feel closer to you in every turn
My words are full of passion and never afraid of getting burned.

if you were to wait for perfection to start flowing through your brain,
through your veins, through your hand, through the pen, and finally to the paper,
the world would lack a masterpiece
that is your
writing