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Let Magic lose the Tyranny of the Reason Let Beauty be the Moon amid a hopeful orison Let Knowing overturn Doubtful agony
Rhythm within, Let it begin. Take me back to a time When I lived within rhyme. When reason was here, And I was there. The tick without tock, Those minutes on the clock. A time unmeasured,
There can only be one opinion, right? “Because I love you.” These are the precious words: Full of hope, promises, and happiness,
I cower in darkness,
Oh how the winds have changed all wind blows with the curviture of the earth but not all whip and burst in the same directions Some winds dash throgh the trees and encourage leaves to dance
Black shroud, blue sky, white moon to greet me. Silence and comfort, they slowly leave me. Gather your mind, child awaken. Do you feel the air, the life you take in As you breathe the breath for reason?
There are days without light days made of permanent night. days full of hateful thought days where it's all for not. everything is void, chaos, making me paranoid. There is but one thing
Everything should have a reason Just like the occuring seasons Constantly changing and rearranging the true meanings Writing is my passion Don't call me old fashioned But this is my escape
My job: To write down everything for those of you who can’t. I’m a scribe for the eyes who stare at blank pages, with too much to say, but no words to say it.
Purpose is the driving force behind all action. Is it to much to ask, to know one's purpse? The answer is never where you look. But One thing is for certain; one Thing remains the same as time slides by--
Were I to never think before I act, Misfortune would abound incessantly. My reason is what keeps my life intact. It’s what I hold most dear in life, in fact I know what poor decisions there could be
There is one you never tell One you never hear But that one, Is the one who tells you The one who hears you
It's the reason we fight
sense of purpose, sense of worth a thought of my impact on this earth. not sure why or what purpose i serve, but i know i'll make a difference in this fallen, broken world
My hope is powered by the greatness of your heart. My smile is fueled by the sweetness of your words. My mind is functioning with the help of your rambunctious emotions.
In the parched places I pausedfor a cool refreshing draft and found myselfdown to my last drop but you were thereto give me drink to energize me
Is it money? Is it to love? Is it to be loved? Is it fame? Or is it just to appreciate life as it is. Life is full of possibilities and despair
Pain has brought me to the fear of being alone now. These are words that may, NO, can never escape my lips. They need me to be strong. I can't let them see me cry. Why you ask, because my strength is all they got.
-Dreamers are dreamers, we all dream of something -Some dreamers are "fake-believers", and those become "unachievers" -To find what drives you, and imbrace it, is actually living the "dream"
Loneliness is like an abyss A world filled with endless darkness A place where light is consumed The heart trembles because darkness laughs It shivers because the shadows devours the soul
A never ending cycle in life with no specific direction, except it always ends exactly where it began. True love has no limit but time does. Like a stopwatch or an alarm clock, It's up to you to pause or play.
I've seen you and yet I haven't
The smoke creeps perfect ‘neath and ‘round each hearse, as liquid darkness consumes the light over all the Earth. Bodies lay everywhere dead lifeless to noise and sound, to
When I was young, I had so many dreams. So many dreams, that I coud not make a choice of a perfect one. All was special and perfect. Cash wasn't involved, neither cries, neither downers, neither anger.
Why do this thing where we live life, when one day we will not wake up? Why get out of bed every morning to drag our feet on the ground? What impact can I have, little me to this big world. Why try?
i admire the crayons for no matter how you push or how hard the pressure they'll pick themselves up and cling to their other i admire the crayons for when in times of stress they melt together
Ditch the ground rules, A bounty of no regrets; Desires fulfilled against the ethics, Weaving the art of manipulation. Mind games to consider realism As a slash to the crossroads.
What do you call it The obscure thing that wakes you up That gets you to roll out of bed
When at a door a common thing Is to knock your hand on that door. But is that door meant to be knocked on? Is your hand meant to knock? Or is your hand meant to build that door
Led by a Voice from within Words slip off my pen without my knowledge. They are not my Words yet my hand delivers them. These Words are spoken slowly,
Don't mind me here, i'll wait for your pass. I'll wait for your sand to empty the glass. What's with that face? You look at me strange. I've just been waitin' for diligent mange.
The passion that leaked was spilled by led, The words able to form what's been left unsaid. There are times I wonder how it all began, Though I'm sure it was because of the age of man.
Thoughts swirling, swirling, swirling. Felt trapped inside with no way out. All my words an angry shout. Then I picked up a pen, let my life begin. Felt relief, with my heart on loose leaf.
Drowning in dissassembled faith literary clemency All I am rekindled
"Hey! Remember me?No?Come on! Don’t you recognize me? Your best bud since that quiet scary night in 93. You were just a babe, remember, sleeping in the dark? When I swept in like a clever snake and crept into your heart.
I write for the world. Its skies of blue stretching uniqueness across the planet Revealing its luster and foliage for all the universe to see
Personify me. The way you see me, and the way I see myself will forever reign different. Take control of the ink, push limbs to trees and write out a new beginning, ending, way to live,
My mind contains a world of its own. I live among things natural, familiar and known Yet yearn for those lands of magic that I must leave With those gateways to fairies, witches, and miracles
Time enchants her victim, begs me near to sharp being…Wraps round frail shoulders as she tickles porcelain cheek.
Someone once asked me the question, “What are your fears and your dreams?”
Laying on the floor, unresponsive Another generation crying for understanding Mother Nature's hand rips at the race But time is immortal
It's too hot, It's too cold, I'm tired, I don't want to go. All excuses to escape and hide from your fears and failures but what is really the thing
There is a reason for everything I do And that reason? If only you knew Every step Every word Has purpose! To be heard.
There are all kinds of mustaches With different character and purpose. Some are grown as thin as eyelashes, Others look like little squirrel corpses. Whether they are long and feathered Or small and grotesque,
When all we could see was black and white those memories we all hold onto so tight for those people that nothing could ever go right you're struggles were worth it
People ask me what I why I wanted to be a “filmmaker.”
My inspiration No valid reason Just a person Only one He changed me My ways of life For the better I couldn't fight I wouldn't fight Just caught flight Continued to soar