Shadows
The mind is like a fire
Constantly lit
And waiting to be fed
It is sometimes fickle
And blown about
By the winds of change and indecision
But it can be strong
And burn with unexpected
Brilliance
It can never be completely doused
Or turned off
Though it makes shadows
That play tricks on you
The mind is like a fire
Constantly lit
And waiting to be fed
It is sometimes fickle
And blown about
By the winds of change and indecision
But it can be strong
And burn with unexpected
Brilliance
It can never be completely doused
Or turned off
Though it makes shadows
That play tricks on you
Behind Those Walls
The mind is a mansion
Full of common place findings
And popular walk ways
That are traveled on from day to day
All the same walls and pictures
That float through thought
Over and over
Until they become habit
Blinded by lack of interest
It is flecked with dark passages
Forgotten rooms hardly used
Secrets that are hidden in the basement
Starved for sunlight and rotting the soul
Locked doors and bared windows
That are separated from conscienceless
Because of
Fear,
Hurt,
Hate,
Or other strong emotions
The mind is not as familiar and known ad we would like to believe.
Many things lay hidden behind those walls.
The mind is a mansion
Full of common place findings
And popular walk ways
That are traveled on from day to day
All the same walls and pictures
That float through thought
Over and over
Until they become habit
Blinded by lack of interest
It is flecked with dark passages
Forgotten rooms hardly used
Secrets that are hidden in the basement
Starved for sunlight and rotting the soul
Locked doors and bared windows
That are separated from conscienceless
Because of
Fear,
Hurt,
Hate,
Or other strong emotions
The mind is not as familiar and known ad we would like to believe.
Many things lay hidden behind those walls.
Restless
The mind is like a wheel
Constantly turning
Never giving rest to those
Who build up
Too much
Momentum
It carries us far
To new places and thoughts
Defying the expectations of others
So that it may run smoothly
With a free pace totally its own.
Bodiless noise
As associated with voice
There came a wind
Rushing by with a whir
That filled the ears with a murmur
And ruffled skirt hems and shirt sleeves
It licks across both faces and hands
Any and all exposed skin
Cutting through clothing
And puncturing the shell
With needles of ice
Changing the scenery in rapid succession
By carrying away clouds and loose objects
And causing turbulence to the leaves of the tall trees
And the underlying blackberry bushes
This, though, only lasts until the sun decides to emerge
Chasing the cold away like a mother come upon a unwanted hand in the cookie jar
The child chastised and sent to his room in tears
The day is still and the cliff is silent once more.
As associated with voice
There came a wind
Rushing by with a whir
That filled the ears with a murmur
And ruffled skirt hems and shirt sleeves
It licks across both faces and hands
Any and all exposed skin
Cutting through clothing
And puncturing the shell
With needles of ice
Changing the scenery in rapid succession
By carrying away clouds and loose objects
And causing turbulence to the leaves of the tall trees
And the underlying blackberry bushes
This, though, only lasts until the sun decides to emerge
Chasing the cold away like a mother come upon a unwanted hand in the cookie jar
The child chastised and sent to his room in tears
The day is still and the cliff is silent once more.
A Run in the Night
Called
The rising moon, so still and calm
Awakens something formally silent
A peace that is shattered
And replaced with an emotion an action
That is impossible to control
I am no longer what I was
The change has begun
Rage
It causes all to be turned red
My view of the world thus blinded
The black tinged freedom so alien to me
But this has become my one true desire.
This new ecstasy that sends me running and jumping through the air
Triumphant in my defeat
Trapped in a place where hands turn to claws.
The madness inside burning with intense heat
As though a fire were imploding my soul.
The waves of storming compulsion crash against my semi conscience mind
Wanting me to destroy something, to let some of this all out.
I rant, I rave, I plunder
Taking what I need from the night
I never have to mimic the expectations of others in this free world
I am what I am compelled to be.
I no longer need a mirror to tell me what my true self really is.
