Such tragedy —
A life, reduced
To the rational.

Enjoy the wonder —
Grateful, not beholden.

No fixed absolute,
A chosen motion —
Purpose
Is a construct.

The soul, a lens,
The mind, a scope —
To each
A truth their own.

Reality, the perception
Of all we observe —
The intersection
Of truth and belief.

Look not without
Seeking to fill
An emptiness
Within.

Objective necessities,
Wants, not needs —
Mere optical desires,
A hunger
Which cannot be
Unseen.

Live for conquest,
Harvest sorrow —
A win today
Says naught about tomorrow.

Beware: the rule
May not be
The norm.

We only seem
Hard to love
To the wrong people.

Danger, beware
Unanticipated sweetness.
False praise obscuring motives dark,
Honey masking poisonous venom —
Once you taste the bitter,
You're too late.

Don't blame fate for turning
These lovers into strangers —
White lie upon twisted truth
Burned through trust
To spawn resentment.

Where optimism fails,
Problems cluster.

True love,
To be the sun
In seasons, dark —
Ignorant of summer.
Shadow-wilted faithful heart,
Your roots
Will never take.

A smile, unfelt,
So unconvincing —
Can't you tell
How fake
My happiness is?

Thoughts like
Burned toast,
Or life itself —
Dark around the edges.
In search of the unknowable,
Blindly sailing
The middle-distance.

However generous they seem —
Value not those acts
Which cannot be repaid
But with money.

No mercy for those
Weak, like me —
Grant us
Our due punishment.

Tingling sensations,
Unfamiliar instincts
Kicking in —
A prelude to discovery.