I watch the demons On both sides of the windowsill Holding the mirror of my mind — On one side burn the fires Through all that I control, And the other side, Though darker, Is life.
Overcoming Years and distance — Real is real, And real persists. Worlds may break, Dreams may shatter, Blood may thin, But true love The heart remembers.
I really like this picture of me, At the edge of heartbreak — You and me, destined for misery. A perfect moment, heading for Our darkest day, and yet, Despite all that came after, I still love this picture of me.
Think on what we have become. Societies? Led communities — Hierarchies designed to benefit The privileged few on top. Rich tapestries of cultures Dismantled into one.
Caught behind walls of lies, Tainted truths so tantalizing — Riding out the waves that brought us To the rocky shores of doubt, Anything not to lose our way, Or drift any further out.
There is a rhythm to the world, A pattern to its melody — A multitude of verses Circling back to a chorus. Even in all freedom We crave the familiar, Always returning To its peace of heart.
Absence in the shape of loss, Memories of pain long faded. Puzzles incomplete, sitting With countless missing pieces — Seeking solace in the simple fact That some were never there, While knowing That most of them Were you.