World on Fire
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World on Fire
Part I
I tried so hard to find meaning in my plight. I chase after the wind unable to find a satisfying grip. A mountain so high. A world so low. I've never felt what it's like to live. Do I ever have to? I see before me threads of the innocent being torn and tossed aside. There is no mourning in my heart, just remorse. A pain, bittered summer's night I stand alone. There is no war within my mind. Soundly, a tattered battlefield remains. The embers charred but remain on my mind. Floating, flittering, and dashing away. There is no peace. There is no peace. There is no peace! These voices keep shouting in my head. Of course, they are echoes. Not of lost souls, or tormented glares, but of a boy who lost his home. It turns out to be quite natural to meet one's acquaintance with eager eyes only to rip open the veil to unprecedented despair. There in the eyes I found his true self. There is no remorse, only him, natural as always. Taunting me back and forth just as the wind sweeps the lilies back and forth. I am revealed to be the "friend's" burden. The same thing staring back at me over and over. There is no pain inside me, but a phantom that makes this so called ache. Behind the doors hide the truth, yet trickery is expected. I have never felt pain. Is that right? Have I been fooled all along? This thing called pain for fear. Fear for mistakes. Fear for nothing. My own ailment could be the burned man's cure. Fire in his eyes and flames brimming from the source of the grounding. Eyes glowing, ready to fight, a touch of disaster. Taste redemption. Taste the nectars of victory. Victory is but a word lost to the ages. Small victories if any make this marble turn. Blueish and white swirls push past the light and darkness. Where I belong as a bystander I feel like an architect. Interpretations, perception, deception. Words that leave a chalky taste, tip-toeing on sweet and bitter. Bitter is my hope and sweet is my sorrow. Lost are the ashes of my former world. I left it behind, yet it lies inside me roaring like a monolithic lion. Teeth razor sharp and eyes bound in stone. Am I left to pitch my heart into the sea? Unless, the answer lasts in staying a while longer. I feel just like you. Like the ages. Tossed and pushed aside to leave only charred remains in every newborn. I assume, this message of peace; there is no ice only fiery words. I cannot turn a blind eye, maybe two but those are upon old world fools casting gold up above. Casting doubts where only sands scratch my face like tiny daggers. This war and this peace is what I doubt. You see, the world needs a fire just a little while longer. For ages mix with sand then slide back to whole again. An eternal mixture. No one has told us outside of these chains in these spinning wheels. Despair more, there are none.
Part 2
The ground shakes. There is no fool-proof plan. Where there is wit, instead shame, and glory, instead delusion. You just want to rule the world don't you? Well have at it! If cleansing flames is the goal do not reply. All good things come to an end, but when all has ended where does bad lie in wait. Mortal beast! There are no flaws in this creation. Breath pushed forth from the lungs of man, let death remember nothing of it. As said once before, no remorse. Freedom is but a man loosing chains with the left and tighting with the right. If there ever be peace in this world, below is the place. The bottom, below the higher man. I sought pleasures in a foundry of ashes, hitting metal walls, never breaking through. Utterances mutter how the spirit never dies, yet now I prove the untrue. Was not the world which broke me. I tied the noose. My mind, limbo it rests, deceived. There is no light, no darkness. I found my resting place, for I cannot descend any further. If roads traveled paved peace, peace is a damn battlefield; oh, I be damned. Can the eagles teach men to avoid the precipice? Can lions fetch back the souls of the downtrodden? Can bulls break bones with no pain? Can a man rekindle his lost love? There was nothing noble found in the marrow. No compassion, no wisdom, and the forces of the sea win. A single tide proved to be more ferocious than the wimpers in the cold, harsh waters of truth. Fortunate is the dying of the light, at least there are still two. The gray area never approach. For those repeating light for darkness, darkness for light break away. Two ways are sometimes none. Contemplate the way always, yet leave way to a partisan. I am not the answer, they chose their direction. I chose neither here nor there.
Re: World on Fire
There is a fading in the heart. Away with the past and future I relay ideas from the lost ages. Dreams of conquerors and kings, the dead and the living.
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