before the world swallows you whole,
leaving you barely able to exhale all that continues to weigh you down,
or inhale all that is destined to cast away your inner conflictions.

just...
breathe

I find it hilarious, being arrested in thought.
The emergence of being free.
Voluntarily considering the thought of worry.
Without need for appetite, things broken down given in ration.
This apparatus that things are well and dandy but in reality they are not.
This uncomfortable silence in a lack of distraction.
Not at all considering you an hindrance.
But there looms a sudden fear.
This compulsive habit that leads to addiction.
Standing still, blank look.
Charges brought forth in misdemeanor.
Lost in one paper stack or another.
Worried of this never ending cycle of what to do, what to think.
Devoted to this vivid image I have of you stuck in my head.
Yet, I don't know a single thing about you.
A force of habit, experiencing a part of myself that I've never quite experienced.
This need to run away from myself
And escape further into you.
The lock and key of this caged feeling.
Completely gone.
That one crack in the wall that reveals the smallest spec of sun merely peeking through.
Depending on someone else to unlock that bolted door. A sound not easily forgotten.
This senseless control that cages us up, delegated in authority without act of trust.
I find it hilarious because we are lost in identity.
you've released me yet, you have no idea who I am.
That one spec of sun that crept through a crack in the wall.
By traditional standard this is quite absurd.
Revealing to a beautiful stranger that she was in fact, the total embodiment of what's retained in the Stonehenge,  
Knowledge.

Sit quietly in the emptiness of your thoughts,
and
Let your heart be carried by the wind.

There's a fine line between maturity and child hood
A very visible one at that
But when one refuses to release oneself
From the shackles of their past life
Complications begin to arise.
People believe your hesitance to be laziness
Your lack of knowledge to be stupidity
Your inability to relate to the new trends or fashions as indifference
They still believe your a child when
You know you are so much more.
Sometimes all that can hold a man back is one simple feeling.

As I sit beneath the foliage of this one oasis amongst
pavement and parking garages,
The night sky almost complete.
The air cool and the leaves of the trees above sing to me.

The wind their muse;
Softly caressing their green skin...
I imagine they're happy with warm hearts and peace of mind.

Leonard Cohen playing in tandem.
His love songs make me think of my own;
My own sweet thing.
Her smile, her laugh, her quiet, calm and collected composer staring back at me as I lose myself in her glory.

Without looking within
Can one truly begin
As a person to grow;
Ones mind to really know?

Without looking within
Truth is lacking wherein
Real truth not without lies,
But within us resides.

Without looking within
One is somewhat akin
To one who is half –blind;
Answers harder to find.
  
Without looking within
With honesty therein
How can one see the light;
Develop true insight?

Without looking within
Can one hope to begin
To attain peace of mind;
True happiness to find?

tell me...

will tomorrow bring,
     all the things
i'm longing...
    stowed upon its elusive wings,
tirelessly beating
    and fighting
to show what's dangling
and hanging...
          ready for the picking...

                          awaiting...
such time so it could begin its need for unloading,
                   delivering
                                      and dropping,
its gleaming
                      treasures
on those who are deserving,
        in no way lacking
so they could be at the receiving
end of this pressurising,
           inking
                      of dwindling
                                        words...

carel­ess thoughts conceived only to
              fuel
           my deranged ramblings...
incessant mutterings of a shattering
                         mind...

           bending backwards, almost breaking,
         risking...
the chance of ever fully
                                          mending...

hopin­g and praying
   for a sentence that's pending
dawn's approval...

allowing
   the rising
of the sun...
                  paving
            ways for thriving
                                          wishes,
unbarr­ing
                  gates for soaring
                                                dreams, unlocking
                   latches,

relieving...
the heightening
                     anxieties of grieving
                                                        ­ hearts.

constantly whispering
                               utterances, promising
good will, happiness
                              and titillating
                                                     ­ sanity.

we're thinking...
     the earth is spinning,
         the moon is setting,
     so the sun must be rising
                         but...

             tell me,
                           tomorrow...

                                *is it coming?

No more life.
No serenity.
No more peace of mind.

Nothing to stop this argument or put things back in line.

I've been dreaming under forgotten stars and I've heard it all before.

Only lies.
No sincerity.
And old forgotten friends.

Lifeless life I've left for dead.

All means to my end.

Burning fire set me free. I'm burning bridges once again.