Breeze

I'm tired of crying, but I can't fall asleep. My loved ones resent me somewhere deep. These tears keep dropping, but they suddenly stopped. My heart's bled dry, and my bubble's popped. I'm home now and surrounded by smiles... and I'll just have to fake one for another while. I yearn for love that I can't seem to find, and my heart burns as I stick to the grind. Happiness and gladness sail right through me trailing crappiness and sadness forever may be! My emotions are turbulent as the wind on creaking trees... hopefully I can plant a seed for better leaves in this breeze.

Knaves

I sit upon the golden throne of honesty surrounded by liars and knaves. But here I am alone, no one next to me... all I see are fires and graves. Where would I be without the pen to grieve with? I'm so worn out I can hardly believe it. Evil wanders freely masquerading as your friends; most will do most anything as a mean to the end. And here, I implore you, friends, to drop your wicked ways... uphold your values with a passionate rage. Reality is tough, but you don't need to be complicit... falling to what is easy rather than right is simply put: illicit. And through the fire of frozen minds I still can't help but love you. My greatest strength is my folly: I stand for the truth. I sit here writing as the lonely poet sage. My tears are smudging ink on the journal page. Am I here, now, lying to myself? Will crying out the pain do anything to help?

Lonely

Imagine it. Just take a pause. A world without rules. A life without laws. Pleasure could be sought for pleasure's sake. People, animals, and spirits partake. And it's perfect, it's ideal. But sadly, it isn't real. There is much more complexity in the universe than we can imagine we can imagine. Every moment everywhere everyone must beware. Not to say reality is scary, but what makes us human is that we're wary. We are aware of an ephemeral presence, a temporary existence in the present. What's a poet to do when he possesses clairvoyance? Foresight is a curse without a semblance of rest for the weary, with dreams and nightmares blended: bleary. I can't save you from your doom, I can't shield you from certain gloom. But dammit, I have to try. I will persist as sure as I will die. You people ride the waves of contentment, while insane people attempt to amend it. To help, to live for you. To better humanity. And it's true: succumbing to insanity. But I've been to hell, ascended limbo, and now tap the well of something you don't understand. How could you? Mere mortal. Pleb. Philistine. Prole. You have chosen the life of a resource to make gods whole. You were born with the curiosity of Prometheus, but chose to hide from the 🔥. And the consequences of your fear spread something dire. You scared others into remission. Submission. Fear is your mission. Instead of harnessing light, you bred darkness and fright. You shied away from conflict. You choked yourself like a snake self-constricted. But I want so badly to be in a place of simplicity, perfect relationships of an ideal humanity. Your fire can be rekindled, your curiosity awakened, naturally it's dwindled, but my hope is not forsaken. I love you in ways you can't imagine. Yet. And I'm willing to place my faith in a bet:

You're a star too. You can outshine me. Right now I'm blue. And utterly lonely.