orbital_forest
Bluelighter
i just wrote this in a stream of consciousness type thing please enjoy and comment/criticize at will!
i scripted my life with the pen of my heart
and i titled this play "the beautiful hopelessness of everything"
am i the author of my existence?
how much longer will i be content to lie in wait
reaching for the strands of a fleeting hopes tail
as it spirals into the translucent sky?
time is not of the essence
the essence is of time
a fragrance lost to the nostrils of those who lie awake
banishing themselves to the netherworlds of doubt and self-deprecation
how much longer i ask,my muse,will i be content to feel my back against the gravel?
each tiny stone tattooing messages into my skin
messages like "now is the time,stand up and grasp your life in an ever fading embrace"
archetypes and history play like the violins bow
crushing the souls of those who dare to question
the saddest song is the one unsung
the most dismal love is the one sided
and i ask,my muse,how much longer will i be content to feel a greater purpose
like a wind of change beckoning me to open my sails
begging me to realize that if its not now then when?
i cant understand myself anymore
when i look into the mirror i see a stranger
all is not well within this broken vessel
but im healing....
with time and patience i will rebuild the ruins of my confidence
and i will stand upon the very tip of my citadel
gazing upon the ashes of my indecision
with tears streaming patterns in the soot upon my face
i will glance at the life i could have had,and give it up with somnolence
this moment is what matters...
this love is what matters...
not the past,not the future but NOW
here
so i ask,my muse,is it time for the stillborn particles of my bliss to reanimate and claim what is rightfully mine?
only time will tell.
i scripted my life with the pen of my heart
and i titled this play "the beautiful hopelessness of everything"
am i the author of my existence?
how much longer will i be content to lie in wait
reaching for the strands of a fleeting hopes tail
as it spirals into the translucent sky?
time is not of the essence
the essence is of time
a fragrance lost to the nostrils of those who lie awake
banishing themselves to the netherworlds of doubt and self-deprecation
how much longer i ask,my muse,will i be content to feel my back against the gravel?
each tiny stone tattooing messages into my skin
messages like "now is the time,stand up and grasp your life in an ever fading embrace"
archetypes and history play like the violins bow
crushing the souls of those who dare to question
the saddest song is the one unsung
the most dismal love is the one sided
and i ask,my muse,how much longer will i be content to feel a greater purpose
like a wind of change beckoning me to open my sails
begging me to realize that if its not now then when?
i cant understand myself anymore
when i look into the mirror i see a stranger
all is not well within this broken vessel
but im healing....
with time and patience i will rebuild the ruins of my confidence
and i will stand upon the very tip of my citadel
gazing upon the ashes of my indecision
with tears streaming patterns in the soot upon my face
i will glance at the life i could have had,and give it up with somnolence
this moment is what matters...
this love is what matters...
not the past,not the future but NOW
here
so i ask,my muse,is it time for the stillborn particles of my bliss to reanimate and claim what is rightfully mine?
only time will tell.
