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Listening to words, stronger than myself, more convincing than you and I. Looking towards the moon that is now fuller than most, wishing for it to help me find hope tho it only gives me flashbacks of memories turning into nightmares. Although everything seems lost it might not be to late for a miracle or even a sign of any sort. But it is the longing for what is coming that has clouded the minds of the young as well as the elders. 

The Wiseman once said...

We are simple images, fractured reflections of our own selfs, our past, our present, our future that no one, no greater power than we can restore. We are the creators of our faults, flaws and the movement of the earth itself. The antidote is us and we are the poison.

I did not really think much of the knowledge he granted me, the moment of silence he commended.

I am enlightened.


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Stay focused
Stay strong
Stay committed
Stay humble

PRAY🙏🏾AMEN

Neglect negativity, its the past.
Embrace positivity, thats the future.
Inhale it all and you shall see the present.

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See the stars glowing far away, their happiness makes me jealous.
Running towards something that doesn't exist, I'm lost.
Feeling that breeze touching my skin. A reaching hand?
The empty space between today, tomorrow and yesterday calls upon the nearby floating river.
All I do is cry behind this mask of love, tears of defeat and betrayal. It's a moving heartbreak.
Settle down, wait a minute...breathe and think of forgiveness. The never ending story.
Sharing the greatness of what this world could give. I don't want it.
Three steps forward equals ten steps back, square one.
It's been too long, the walking plays a trick on the mind. I don't like the view, pearls and diamonds.
I left my sandcastle of comfort to explore, be saved.
I ended up dead at a funeral instead. Good people came but the ceremony wasn't mine.
​Watch the circle of life. And as I lay my soul down to rest, remembrance of a shadow in the dark appears.

Find me!

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She's falling but she doesn't think he'll catch her
Cause her last relationship was a disaster
Accusations everyday she didn't know why
All her calls would be ignored he's on his own time
Shoulda' ended it before it started
All she ever got was broken hearted
He was cheating on her tryna' flip it
Back on her like a victim
Now she's all alone and starting over
Now she's got baggage on her shoulder
But the new guy really loves her
She loves him but she doesn't trust herself anymore

She's fallin' in love now
Losin' control now
Fightin' the truth
Tryin' to hide
But I think it's alright girl
Yeah, I think it's alright girl

Despite her past she can't help the attraction
He tells her that he's nothing like the last one
He redefines in every way what love is
She fell for him and hasn't gotten' up since
Every now and then she goes off though
Beating on his chest like a bongo
He understands she's coming from a hurt place
Answers all the questions on her survey
Doesn't get jealous, doesn't break trust
Doesn't call a hoe after hang ups
Gives her everything she ever wanted
And even though she still feels haunted

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Is this what power feels like? Then I dont want it. Can I only feel for the moment? Does the purple flower in my dream smell heavenly? Or is my imagination messing with my mind? Do my eyes see the truth that lay before me, but the obstacles of water runs right through. What the fuck am I actually having a conversation about? Who am I talking to? All I see is my reflection in the mirror slowly fading away. Give me something to feel or else what would be left, if only not the notes on my paper when writing this?

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I can feel the rain showering my body, covering every inch of what is left of me.
​It's like the tears that recently fell down in my hands are now as cold as ice. ​I am no more.
​The creep is slowly becoming my own shadow, a part of me, as it's working it's way up my spine. That trembling emotion, whispering, wake up call.
​My mind is lost just as the happiness I reminded myself about only lifetimes ago. I do not want to call those fears out again, for they will hunt me down where I stand firm to the ground. The earth I've helped build with every part of my soul.
​These are my lessons...they give me hope, they fight to believe, they raise me stronger than most but as easily they tear me apart, breaks my faded pieces into dust and simply disappear with no traces.
​Should this be the thinking, wishing or composition of the years, the weeks, the days, the hours, the minutes, the seconds of my existence?
​It's been cold and a long time coming, what is you waiting for.......waterfalls

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As I sit here looking through the window, the hours seems to just pass me by
...the memories start to fade...

The tumbling rain outside hitting the ground reminds me of the tears I once cried when loosing you. But the sand in the hourglass, the hourglass you trapped me in, the one I was stuck in, the one I couldn't get out of doesn't hold me like a genie in the bottle anymore. I heard a voice from a far, it set me free. I am no longer a prisoner of indecisive decisions made by an incompetent delusion.

As I sit here looking through the window, the hours seems to just pass me by
...the memories start to fade...

It is almost like a painting, from a distance everything is clear, as the heavens above, but taking 1 step, 2 steps, 5 steps then 10, the truth will prevail. What meets the eye, you see, is flaws. Thats true perfection. I wish I could've made you understand the difference between beauty and "beauty". I hope that you see this through.

As I sit here looking through the window, the hours seems to just pass me by
...the memories start to fade.

I can feel the black ink from my pen floating on my white paged notebook, turning the words I write into grey ashes that the simmering wind blows away like dust upon a wave crusin' along the beach. Is it time to lower the guard and tear down the wall I built just because of insecurities based on choices that cannot be fulfilled nor lived up to. The hunger of satisfaction will only please the heart if you're in it to win it. Therefore you've already lost your case.

As I sit here looking through the window, the hours seems to just pass me by, the memories start to fade but i am not afraid.


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I wish I could tell you a story with a happy ending. Yet it's still unwritten, it has not been spoken nor thought of. What's really on the mind, on the tip of the tongue? What is it that the body can show you, your eyes cannot see, your fingertips can feel and your lips taste? What makes the time slow down but still move as fast as the light? What is it that makes it IT? Is it the glowing aura or just the humble touch? Is it the imagination of the illusion that it is the truth, and the truth only? How dare I neglect the facts of this wonder? Forgiveness is there any? Should I search for something I don't believe exist? Am I even allowed to see into myself, my soul and spirit? Is it suppose to hurt, is this the meaning of it all and would you want to change it? If you could tell the story would it even be yours to tell? Could you rewrite the beginning to know the end, but write the end not knowing the beginning? Would you let the water in the great river run dry, not know it's end, only to guess when you know destiny and faith cannot be foreseen? Can I tell you a secret, can trust be loyal and can protection be bravery? Are misstakes the answer or are they simply a distraction? What is it that makes IT so special? Is it the warm vibrations or just the powerful words? Is it the longing for a lost beauty which you and I will never understand? Not even gaze upon the sight of it's glory, it's art, like the seasons cover the earth? Are we privileged enough to swore our life to this story, that this is it? Are we truly and dearly lovers of the moon and the sun, the heaven and the sea and under the stars and planets? What if it was never really it, but it was barely a function of the mind that it would become something greater than ​IT itself? And that ​IT is only a projection of what it has long been told to be? Should ​it be forgotten and left just to be called IT? Or would you stand on the mountain peek and scream out, that there is more to ​IT than it calls for us?

I wish I could tell you a story, but IT could never be told because IT has never been written.


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I'm writing this to you, whoever you would have become. My someday's are gloomy and my hours are slumberless. Dearest, in a way you are missed and in every way you are loved. Little white flowers will never awaken you not were this shadows of sorrow has taken you, cause the angels have no thoughts of ever returning you. I'm sorry...

In reality you don't exist. You were a dream I broke and tossed away. I beg for your forgiveness and with my last breath of my soul, I'll be blessing you. Darling, I hope that my dream never haunted you. I wasn't ready to take care of you nor to loose you. You aren't something I talk about or something I did talk about but I'm talking about you now. I'm sorry...

I wanted to give you life cause my heart was telling me how much I wanted you. But I had to do what I had to do. I can here the silence. Pain out of this world is what I felt the day I turned your lights, it's getting gloomy. I regret that day cause a little bit of hope vanished. Some type of emptiness is what you left. It's strange thou I never knew you. I wonder at times how you would have change me and how I would have created you, shape you and guide you. I'm sorry...



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