The heart can be fleeting,
The mind can be feeble,
we hear what we want but we dare speak no evil,
What are we to do as we rot in the cold?
Covering up with a jacket to bring warmth to no soul.
Death is a grip for which we all crave,
For the only promise that is kept is the one of a grave.
What is reality but illusions and lies?
Rose colored glasses impair ignorant eyes.
We love and we lose,
We fight and we run,
Believing another half is out there as the moon to our sun,
The truth I see now is the purest of all:
We only climb mountains to see how far we can fall.
We can catch ourselves on the side,
We can slow our descent,
At some point our reserves become all but spent.
We can slide with the avalanche,
Thunder drowns out our pleas,
Lifting the veil between ocean and trees.
As we reach the base,
A transparent embrace,
Whispers a promise that we've found our place.
A flower floats through the trees with undeniable grace,
Strumming a harp with the stars,
Singing of space.
As we follow we ignore that the forest is haunted,
Unwittingly oblivious, blissfully undaunted.
For the flower we chase is no angel but a siren, Weaponizing our soul to bring us beside them.
Following still closer from the forest to the sea,
Our heart pumps faster as our ears scream with glee.
Until the last moment,
We've lowered our guard,
Ripped up all our armor;
A turtle's shell no longer hard.
We realize too late that this moon was a lie,
We've willfully chosen to come here and die.
Beneath the waves we are shredded,
There's ecstasy in our head,
Saying It's better to feel pain than nothing instead.
Like addicts, we rise from the ocean again,
Ready to restart the cycle until the day we meet our end.
The Saga I tell is no meager story,
There is no warriors death,
Nor heroes nor glory.
Spirits float endlessly eternally
With no purpose through the shallows,
Crows devour the hearts of those who failed to heed the warnings of the gallows.
© All Rights Reserved