The Starry Skies

Toiling through the river I found myself on the precipice of the sea The estary stared at me I sailed out to the open wilds The wildlands that we know very little about We may know how deep the ocean goes But we know not what lurks within Only five percent has been explored On the open waters you barely have friends If any at all Most beings friendly to humans Are not salt sea faring The ferry is shaking, the moon gives off no lumens The darkness envelops all those daring To brave the blue borders that separate Every nation from the next I am but one man, and I will have to cut through For I heard a call across from here I am but one man, and I will have to brave the storms I'm not immune to doubts or fears But I know that if I can survive the coming storm Avoid the vortices that are laden across I will make my way, the ocean I will cross I'll find, eventually A frozen landscape of torn apart minds Take me as far as north goes So far north that south becomes the direction of mi...

I write not for people I write so that the thoughts within my head Do not develop into evil Things that I will soon come to regret I write for myself I write so that my soul has an outlet I started a journey, during which I wrote Oh so many poems for me If they were to describe my story Then each is a line of dry ink and broken dreams I am not content with he who I am Who am I is a question I often ask Wondering, pondering poking and prodding Questioning the very nature of my fabric When spoken to I'm often idly nodding For my attention is often empty and barren I am living within the infinite versions of the past self I am alive within the world in which I've created in my mind It is a shelter from all that which attempts to delve Deeper than I am ready to share that night Two hundred lines of dry ink and broken dreams Two hundred lines, scattered across them all Is the rawest, purest form of the vessel that is me What is the soul, does it exist? Do I exist? Am I free to live ...

If it were not for the window within The room that I lived in For most of my formative years I would've never become the man that I perceive To be me If it were not for the sunlight piercing through The unclean dirt-filled glass I would've never learned to achieve The goals that gave me the means To become, oh so so much more To learn to grow steadily, always like grass Rely upon that which the world gives Rely upon that which nature provides For it is not within the human nature To provide help with nothing expected to arrive Back to the provider's coffers Humans are grateful but expect things in return still Yet most of us do not perceive the reality in which we live Though I am not living there anymore And the window is nothing more than shattered glass I still do yet grow The stars still guide my path For through that window of shattered glass I saw The stars call upon my name For when my mother regrettably passed away I stared up hoping to one day see her face The star...

I bled all over the battlefield of my wits I cried dry tears that the air has never met I let go of so many fantasies for which I once wept All I have is the weight which I carry All I carry are my regrets Born from mud, muscle and blood The blood within boils to degrees I cannot fathom I wish I was more than the sum of my parts Are people worth more than the actions that they do Do intentions matter more than the results Is the world ready to hear the sad ugly truths Are people defined more by their sadness or guilt Ashes to ashes Dust to dust From the Earth and back to it we will all go What matters more than death Within this cradle of reality in which we surround ourselves We lie and tell the world we'd outlive our shelves We'd escape the shells within the world has placed us all But it's a lie that we always just tell I am staring at the end of my wit I wish I could know if it's truly the end I battled my thoughts I rambled on and on It doesn't really help Talk...