Go ahead,
Disrespect your elders.
Trust defiance over those
Who lived and failed
Each of these tests before —
The ones who know precisely
Why, and how,
You're so spectacularly wrong.

Mirror cruel,
Your truths so cold —
Tell me, when did I
Become so old?

Social technology?
It is but the tool we choose.
In the end,
It's not the hate machine —
It's how WE use it.

The mind's eye is blind
To the realities of aging —
Pain reminds us that
Time exists,
And isn't kind.

Instead of
Dragging up what was,
Let's create some
Worthy past —
Let's be legendary
Together.

Moments out of sequence,
Stumbling out of sync —
Down the rabbit hole
From consciousness,
To where memory lane begins.

Conspiracies bore me —
Their plots, though unpredictable,
Are always cast the same.

The effectiveness of
Repenting for a sin?
Akin to swallowing soap
Until you're clean.

As the air
—its current—
Changes,
Time slows down,
Hearts start racing.
Nothing sings the silence
Like the song of fear.

Flashes in a clear sky —
Like fragments of clarity
You never knew were missing.

All we know
Is what we're told
By others,
Raised on tales of old —
This world, it turns on words
Of faith and fear.

Self-delusion —
Carving dimensions,
Sculpting spacetime
Long since fixed within our minds,
With binary intent.
It's a rigged game,
But one we might win.

A crisp, straight line,
Though drawn in sand.
No peer review,
No show of hands.
Scream all you like —
This is how
And where it ends.

Well, pardon me for
Mistaking your arrogance
For an actual personality.

Extrospective observation
Through internal rationale —
There is no morality in judgment,
Yet, you seem to hide that well.

Some fights are not worth
The blood they are boiled in —
Just walk away.

Judging by how we lived,
Salvation might be at most
A backdoor into heaven,
Or a thermostat in hell.

Tragic,
The haters,
The hated,
The hate —
Such squandered potential,
Such heart laid to waste,
Over…what?

Damned be the friendly,
The crucified saints —
Shamed out of context
With passive-aggressive
Unjustified hate.

Harrowed, the forsaken,
And yet, measures of happiness persist —
Some hallowed things cannot be taken,
Regardless of conviction or intent.