I stand amidst a sea of strangers,
Murmuring to themselves,
I stand among people unlike myself,
Blurred lines, where people once were.
A world unknown, an adventure?
Or merely sadistic torture?
I stand, glancing around,
“Look down, Look down”
Transparency, rapidly approaching,
Fingers, fading to nothingness.
A figment of my mind?
Or merely the truth, most unkind?
Run. Run to the guarded abyss of deafening blackness.
Run. Run to the beginning of forever and the end of never.
Run. Run to the death of humanity, birth of insanity.
Run. Run to the empty chasm that is silence.
Run. Run to the disappearing warmth and the appearing chill.
Run. Run to the welcoming dark, leap into infinity.
Run to the endless night, embrace its intricacy.
Run to the endless night, admire its delicacy.
Run.
The light reflects off of its face with a gleaming shimmer that can only be expressed as the released concoction of sunlight and moonlight with the glow of fireflies and the warmth of a candle in a dark room.
Yet there is a darkness in which it hides, peeking its eye out to glance at the world in which it does not belong. To glance at the hopeful surroundings in which it will never belong. To listen to the laughter it will never have. To listen to the subtle hum of people bumbling about, accomplishing tasks that it will never have.
There is no solace in the darkness yet no joy in the light. Alone in the dark. Alone in the light. Alone in the peaceful morning. Alone in the ravaging night. Alone in a crowd. Alone when alone.
It is a lonely creature in a lonely world. It is a lonely creature in a painful world. It is alone but perhaps it is better this way.
Simplicity, the world’s basis;
Is it merely the opposite of complexity?
Simplicity is overestimated.
We believe we simplify everything around us.
Why? Why must we remove the intricacy of it all?
Humans, capable of creating such elaborate works of art.
We believe in the “idea” of simplifying, all.
Life is so complex it is not simple.
What will spark curiosity? What will inspire creativity?
The thorns of simplicity tighten forcing us to fall.
Constricting creativity, suffocating curiosity;
Yearning to prevent any form of imagination from inspiring creation.
Shatter the thorns of simplicity
Fight for creativity, curiosity, and imagination.
Be human, be free, and be real.
Embrace your originality.
You are unique and special.
Be inquisitive, you are able.
A simple person standing there.
A simple person, a simple stare.
No oddities or quirks.
No achievements nor ingenious works.
A grey suit, grey tie.
Grey socks, knee high.
Red flashes of satin sashes.
A fragment of life in a field of ashes.
A whisper here, a smile there.
She has broke the endless stare.
Her name, imagination.
Her goal, transformation.
Her warmth has melted the frozen frown.
Her presence lifts up the man, once down.
“Be free” she whispers subtly.
“Embrace imagination and live, happily”.
Grey to blue and grey to red.
Color filled the man, once dead.
The absent stares fade.
A loving gaze instead was made.
A tiny spark of imagination
An everlasting mark
–Transformation.
~AV
A subtle sound
a soft breath
a voice
It circles round
and stands it’s ground
between life and death
A reason to rejoice.
A never ending symphony
a chorus, living tales
a story
It brings a certain.. epiphany
the secrets of the world unveils.
a symbol of strength…Of glory!
Certain aspects, simple elements
the earth embraces all lost
The wind betrays all secrets
Fire and water, the endless battle
The broken man does lament
Battle earth with frost
Whisper in the wind–
Hide, in the shadows, No! The Thickets.
The scorching flame, extinguishing tide, flee, avoid the merciless war–
Take up your steed, the one of speed, the harness and the saddle
And ride dear one, Oh ride, from this everlasting conflict.
Meet me by the oak tree
near the stream
and past the living wood
I’ll see you at the crossing, Do hurry now my love.
The sun shall fade to sleep, and we shall sit and see
The marvelous world we live in, our own personal dream
I wish to dance for many lifetimes, If you dance, we could
Rest now, our secrets are safe, for they rest upon a dove.
I see a visionary plane so unreal
Its presence so full of grace
The warmth and love surrounds me
My heart has found its place
Suddenly the warmth evades
The love once present is slowly fading
The cold fog now encircles me
Shivers swiftly invading
Broken pieces of a heart now lay
Upon a frozen soil, where the serpent, slithers
The rigid air that once embraced me
A once surreal place, now withers
A drop upon my head
A trickle of hope, in a realm, filled, with despairs
Bringing joy to one, filled, with desperation
A reminder that life flows through toils and snares
Small, small drop
You must grow
Embrace the river inside
Bring life to the realm, flow.
The softness of the summer breeze
quietly rustling the rosy leaves
rippling past the cool stream
carrying wishes from a child who believes.
The smell of sweetness in the air
gentle thoughts, wistful thoughts
gliding past the child there
a tiny giggle escapes.
Never ending peace
a hopeful plea from an innocent heart
a wish, floating through time
a figment of imagination, truth in part.
Do not dismiss that simple plea
did not the hearts we have, once hope?
take the time, stop to hear, stop to see
the sparkle in the eyes of one worth fighting for.
Glimmers in the dark
flickers like a spark
Silver glowing
gold flowing
A simple glint
a subtle hint.
~
A rippling in the waters
the Siren’s graceful daughters
A wreath of light
a band of might
A precious object drowned
was lost now found.
~
A mortal’s deed
a queen relieved
The wreath of light
that band of might
A hidden crown revealed
now kingdom’s doors once locked
–Unsealed.
Image by elnaraniall: http://elnaraniall.deviantart.com/art/My-replica-of-the-Galadriel-crown-341514882
What is reality?
Simply an illusion of perfection? No?
If reality is perfection.
Why is there so much turmoil?
So much despair.
Merely a world of corruption? No?
If reality is corruption.
Why are there objects of perfection?
Breathtaking and beyond compare.
Can reality truly be defined?
Who decided what reality means?
What is reality?
Reality is our world.
We decide, for ourselves, what reality is.
We define our reality
We are the kings and queens.
Define your reality.
Aelyse Vyela 