Frail the self
Seeks contradiction —
Justifying being different.

Culture waves cultivated,
Lost in seas of entertainment,
Tuned to channels
Leading nowhere —
We, the surfing dead.

No demons, only gods,
Going through a bad age.
No sinners, merely mortals,
Struggling with their cravings.
No original sin, no intrinsic evil,
Just saints condemning
Misgivings they themselves
Hide well.

How long can one
Carry on,
When each day closes
Many blessings short
Of a smile?

What feels
Naught but futile
Might simply
Not be for you.

Abrupt as it began —
It ends.

An illusion of being —
Significance
Needs no meaning.

Simple truths
To sing along,
Little lies
To dance to.

Tools of gods,
Toys of men —
The tool wields not the hand.
Earthly needs,
Divine plans,
The tool
Wields not
The hand.

Don't fan my hate,
Your needs can wait —
Will the world to stop.
Will the world
To stop.

Bury my feelings,
Can't show my weakness.

My grief, my pain
Outweigh all else —
I scream,
And will the world
To stop.

Wonder what happened
To your wonder —
Reclaim the dreams you dreamt
When you were younger.

Any day, come what may —
Aim to please, but never fear
To disappoint.

Pretty
Is what we wear,
Beautiful
Is who we are —
How we look
Is how we feel.
Tired. Happy. Sad.

Days set to a rhythm
In a world without rhyme —
If reason won't pretend,
Neither will I.

Write what you know,
Live what you don't —
Then write some more.

Desires unspoken,
Acts taboo —
They'll never come to pass,
Until they do.

Beat the odds,
Strum the heart strings,
Seek a rhythm all your own —
Sing the song that fills your soul
For none but you.

A landing paved
With broken dreams —
Was what you have
Worth half a life?