Carrying the aesthetics of the world
Blending the color pallets of meanings untold
Emotions buried under the surface of reality
Hues, melodious harmonies, background light forming the aesthetic energies of what we want the world to see, how we wish the world would see, how we wish the world would not see
Creating a scene, visualizing a sequence, sweetening the sounds of  the universe.
Art.

It screams in my head
Shaking the walls with an echo
Resonating like a wind chime in a tornado
But little do they know
-- I’ve been deaf for a while now

My ears have long been hearing the murmurs of motive
So much continuous throwing of ideas
Has just become white noise to me, like a rain storm soundtrack
It just becomes back drop music, if there's no action to do it

So the real question for you is:

**Do you lack motivation or initiation?

You're like wodka
to me, I'm addicted
I need you more
each and every day
to keep my heart
from ever feeling
hopeless or
unwanted.

Lucky are those ferns
that blow some tears...
they stand with sunlit fears;
and if love cries in the same manner,

who cares?

I know a man who's brilliant.
Understanding who you are,
By just one glance at you

He knows that there are only so many possibilities.
And that the one that is true,
Is found by simply looking at you, analyzing you.

Do you know him?
If you do, do not jump to conclusions  and assume what you don't understand.
Instead, see the beauty in the way he thinks, processes, and lives.

The unmistakable sound of metal carving through ice,
Armored gladiators move swiftly
Wielding wooden weapons with curved blades
As they chase a hard black disc.
Bodies slam into the boards,
The boisterous crowd masks the sounds of cracking bones.
One team scores, then the other.
The crowd cheers, and then they boo.
Two competitors exchange words,
Then fists.

Seconds tick off the clock,
Before they know it the game draws to a close.
Sweat drips from every pore,
Steam rises from the warriors' helmets.
The game has not yet been decided,
So extra time is needed.
The purest form of competition,
The first to score wins.
A skater breaks away from the defense.
He shoots, he scores, he goes home and waits for the chance to play again.