Fairious

How many hours has it been since yesterday where I walk upon time itself. I stood not still as the mountains neither was I unchanging as the sun. As it is famously known I will not tarry here when at least they never considered me immobile. Oh but to contentedly tread and blissfully fall and return to the top. Where all the danger lies I'll smile a knowing beam below my shining eyes. It's for all I don't understand that I need so much. You could include love you can also include hope. None of which I could live without and in their absence consider life a useless existence. I'll twist it all! Everything I think I know so well! When something can be said and understood one way can it not be understood and said in another way... I never proposed to be right in such things as writing or at all proficient; only to be consider but not sworn upon that is far too much pressure. I only enjoy seeing how these words twist.



For all those who look at the sunsets and let the colors of life bleed into their souls. Then grab a spoon and find the superhero in you. Its meticulous work for sure, but its profits are well-paying.



What is the next line in my rhyme when at last I was only left breathless before the site in my eyes. The blasts I could hardly stand, the sounds, those looks, it curled me confused. I have paid a great deal for these words, bought with blood and tears. But patience is one who waits beneath the shifting moon, arching through the night. A single dark star. Yet I wait and through the months the stars say all I need to write. Many times I have caught myself saying, "I have been here before". It was one tantalizing reminder and a hint of the world long dead. As in the past world, the one which swirls in our minds. Yesterday. Yet I catch it creeping into today, its subtle bleeds of color on white cloth. However silent it is also painfully vibrant and somehow I always feel powerless to stop those spider web spins; filling pure emptiness with another perfect existence and sustaining occupation of an individual identity. All is fair when the outcomes must be absolute that is why I write in such a way. The colors are all over the place, a mess. Hasn't it been decreed the order of the universe tends to disorder. So isn't the key to understand where I will be is understand the path of that disorder. But to do that I must create disorder or nonsense. At least as much as I can. But this is all nonsense too right? I am just a kid saying what he wants to figure out his emotions in a literary form. Isn't that ripping the mask off a clown! Then you can see who he truly is. These words are only a distraction.



This will be awesome, something to open your eyes. You're upon a cliff staring over an endless ocean, receding into the bended horizon. It is sundown and the colors are brilliant. The rocks beneath your feet are weak, unstable beneath the pressure of your awe. What is the sky? Who are you? The dirt is grainy grinding at your fingertips. Smelling the air, it is full of heat and dust. The wind catches your hair from the east; blowing from a land that now only knows darkness. It is a cool breeze and you know it will permeate everything. What is it to live? You awake in a dream and to fall asleep to life eternal. What is to live though? Falling asleep, you fall and you rise like the tides, yet ever constant. You're a sea and you may change; you colors shift from deep green to deep blue. You are the dark abyss and the safe shallows. Some know you well and others fear you. You are loved and hated. You are the hope of some and the end of others. However you are not a sea. You may tempest and you may rage, the fury of your depths may be known and feared by all. But you are the calm and the peace all long for. You're words are the humming through the reeds. But still more.