If you can find truth in what I say,
Then who am I to admit that I lied,
Why disturb your peace, or deliver hurt
If you could keep the look inside your eyes?
A selfish energy nurtured
Now, too late to change,
I keep my secrets (forever and always)
Within your heart, reserve my space.
Within myself, I hear
And so see
Every fault I own
And every fault, I let own me.
I play my hand, full of guilt,
Shuffling through the pain
That you would own, should you know
In a world where hearts are pure.
Do words mean more with more repetition,
Or are they dulled from existence by silenced ears eager for something more than letters strung in sequence –
Actions may speak louder than words,
But without words intentions increase their capacity to be lost,
And so even besides my actions I make sure that my words remain frequent.
Aside from definitions, what is the weight of words?
Held in which measure and by which cost?
Who dictates their placement besides one another to become the better of each other?
Like love, between I and you.
Will it mean more the more we say it,
Or do hearts suffer the same pain as our ears with the more we speak and less we display it?
See, we take words to make sense of the questions asked within ourselves and unto others,
And the same words that lead us lost into a blind confusion as we choke to find the answers.
With words we hold the capacity to make light of our emotions or see that someone suffers,
Or make fictions to escape our imprisonment in pain –
“A beautiful face, below the moon dances.”
With words we may distract from the point of our path,
Quick to make pictures click in the minds on to which we speak,
Maybe our words become too much as each day we confess our love and failures they become week…
And before long we’ve heard it all,
And all that we’ve heard means nothing at all.
Shedding what you were to become what will be,
A transition from ignorance to open thought through open eyes –
Yet still we choose what we see and what we believe.
Manipulation, a tool wielded with the desire to survive may seed lies
So many a time that we ask, should we
Retrace our steps and back into the naivety of youth go with a smile?
Knowing the path of growth is an ongoing trail
That serves only as an extension of ourselves and makes light of the weight that with it we shoulder –
As death calls, like a cold wind from afar beckons,
Stand tall and rise with the tide, and with knowledge find new eyes to see the joys of life.
Falling into my own mind, a place in which no solace found,
Consumed by fear with no one near and chased into a deeper shroud –
No mystery to solve when questioning how my descent into madness unfolded,
You make your own misery and isolate your feelings in silence,
So how can you feel love when you fail to show it.
Contradictions made in response to retaliations with heightened emotions
Because of a dull devotion you hold to the sentiment of proving yourself correct,
Yet curious when the plague plants itself inside your mind and twists a knot around your neck,
Now where is there left to fall further when you grip your own breath with such a vice?
Where will you run to, or better yet hide,
You know not who loves you for this is a thought that need not be considered more than twice.
Wrapped in your own inhibitions and blind to the sights that bless your eyes with colours before you,
A perception ignorant in its pessimism, and they do tell, yet made your choice to ignore it.
So who is to blame for the fear and the cloud that sits atop your head a crown?Who owes smiles to the face that sits with sadness and only gestures to frown?
By your fiction, have your sorrow and in convictions realise the error of your ways,
And with these thoughts take a moment to calculate that a better reflection is the dream your soul should chase.
For better, where than can be no worse,
Use your heart with mind and reserve your words,
As darkness will forever be your Shepard should you turn from praise and choose only to curse.
Starting with statements to catch your attention,
Keeping your focus to the curiosity of my amazement,
Listening is nothing more to us than word retention,
So fear not a conversation,
Our interaction may only last a moment –
And by the fall of a sentence on deaf ears,
Deaf ears may have fallen silent to sound.
Calculating what is,
Is no more challenging than the way in which the brain sets the pieces,
And if the puzzle suits our needs,
We are free to piece together scenes as we please,
Now with this motion I state this,
If honour killed the Samurai,
Beauty killed the butterfly,
Where words do damage a smile with hidden intention can burn skies,
For deception can be hidden far beneath the truth of any eye.
If beauty controls the hearts of men,
My feet may be planted firmly within the floor,
Yet should she choose that I will run no more,
Let me fly,
Knowing finding my feet will burden me never more,
But for a second within a moment let yourself dream,
That maybe there is more to life than what we shall see,
Or have seen of colours,
As colours change from concept to scene.
If I held the strength to part mountains,
And form paths between the sea,
Overwhelming thoughts would hold no force over me,
Constant contemplation would be put aside,
And space would be made for my heart to find,
A way to connect to thought,
For if I must think so far beyond a single curious moment,
By passion I should not be bound.
If in the end all I own are my words,
Then I will bare then across my chest until the final sight of the moon,
With ink settled on skin like oil on water,
These words will stay a testimony to every spoken statement,
But should I fade too soon,
For the world to catch me,
Then by your tongue hold favour upon my name.
I only wish you’d open your eyes to see,
Past what they say and what is said by or about me,
For eyes may distract from the truth,
And views may serve as the sun upon a lie,
A rose tinted confusion of possibilities,
And if a lie can be written into an unseen moment,
Or unspoken word,
The truth in its true form may form something that seems so absurd,
Though we take these scriptures as words written by the sky,
Bestowed upon man as an answer for questions of why,
Only our hearts may know what is,
Where our eyes show what we want.
We could speak forever and let the wind share our words,
We could revel in what ifs and consider pain without hurt,
Or we could dream and see colours bleed into the sky,
And find a new world that is confused,
Without asking why,
Our colours could come together in ways we choose,
Across the spectrum in ways that pierce the eye,
No more will rain fall grey,
Or grass grow green under blue skies each day,
Red will run through the world with pieces of gold,
And even as we grow and fall beneath the stars when we’re old,
Purple and Yellow will run through the air,
And what odds once worked against us will turn fair.
Solum 