Squall borne aloft, wildly brewing;
Erudite words or malarkey
Bustling and rustling and howling;
This poor mooncalf's soliloquy

Snow came to lay on rolling hills
Extinguished surviving embers
Absent warmth to counter the chills
This lone, tortured soul remembers

Spring arrived, flowers grow in bloom
Butterflies morphed to razor blades
Star! Save me from impending doom!
As this replete ice thaws and fades

Summer warms trees and birds above
Kiss from the breeze of gentle sea
My lady's heart billowed with love;
Much love to give, but naught for me

Hope, a sweet promise and a sham
Such a cruel drug, a poison
Sure to put a man in bedlam
I stand, steady as a bison

It never seems the right time.
Watching night pursue the day.
That one light spread across a blanket.
That one rebellious soul that sees all but never says a word.
You shy away, but still I chase.
Wandering about until it gets dark enough to truly see you.
There I wait, knowing only persistence

Oh,

to fall in love with a poet.

How strange it would be

writers of darkness who share their nonsense

in passionate form.

I'd fall in love with a poet

to dream with her

of what could be.

Oh to dream,

of one who understands me.

Is it you miss poet,

is it you

who understands me?

I dove in head first--
didn't think about it
let the huge bubble
around me burst--
ignored the warning signs
of shallow water all around
not the least fearful
of landing on the ground
instead of the murky, watery sea--
but the ground came fast
and slammed right into me--
still I got my *** right back up again
and climbed that huge ladder
all determined to be the one to win
and jumped this time feet first--
and yep,
still made that bubble burst,
but this time I landed smack into the sea
and swam far, far away from here
seems it was finally my time to just be free!

Channel your energy.

Then don't change the channel.

Channel your energy.

Then don't drain the channel.

Struggle has been always
My eternal aim
As everybody makes me feel
It's a shame

As I will never give a ****
Or think to say something the same
Once they ponder or think it's ephemeral
I'd say it will continue to my funeral

I doubt them saying that's insane
As I'll just say the same

Since I knew them dooming
Goals and aims
and will always be looming

As you know hopes will haunt my thinking
sounds like they are trying to exorcise my dreaming
Creepy so it seems, I hope them thinking about conjuring
They are just virtues which are residing

It doesn't hurt that much,
I got my plenty sources who have been
And will always be
Supporting and backing.

So as I bet they simulate epics,
no hunch and so positive I am
they can be psychics
and shrinks.