Hiker Hiking Backpacker from Pixabay

Standing in the storms of life.

I invite you.
Rip me apart.
Tear away the veil.
Dip into my heart.
Can’t change the way I was born.
Flames and hammers beat me till I became reformed.
Thrashing still against the common thread.
Won’t stop resisting until the day I’m dead.

World why do you laugh at all my tries? Blackness covers me in its sorrow weeping lies. So I stare out into a dream wondering if all is as it seems.

Vanity and insecurity hold me in their loving hands. Clouds of hypocrisy standing with righteous pretense model in the spotlight confusing us so no one truly understands.
We laud the corrupt, we applaud the corrupt.
We vote them in, makes me want to erupt.

Where is my purpose?
What is my goal?
Who do I touch?
What will unfold?

See myself doing the things I don’t want to do. Do them anyway, take fancy in being crude. But then repent. Change again and again. Don’t tell me about original sin.

Made from the dirt. Flesh to skin. Bleeding to feel alive. Hurt lets me know a pulse is there ready to rescind. Rescind the doubt, push it away, have to keep changing or resolve to die more each day.

When the waters run like fresh moonlight cleaning my wrongs, sluicing away worry and missteps refreshing currents take me to delight. New suns will rise though seeing solutions are not always easy to find.

I invite you.
Wipe away the shadows.
Sing a new song.
Hope and courage in our souls.
Longing for answers.
We have paid the tolls.

Leaving the heavy weight used to be on our chest we must be rambling on. The moments are fading slashed with distaste of our mistakes so we can lift up again love and create.

Go give birth and generate.

Who will shoot the starting gun? Do you have the key? Unlock your waiting, go and seek. I’m older, not shorter of breath. The sun isn’t waiting for me to change but it keeps transforming. Will I be strong or shall I be weak?

The show is almost over but it’s never-ending. Keep finding ways to break new ground not shattering just learning bending.

I invite you.
Split apart the words.
See inside.
Analyze and realize your view.
Construct beauty from the absurd.
Take away only what you construe.

Harmony is only steps away.

Bringing real feelings along with messages of inspiration and imagination to life. Awakening is the symptom of my infectious condition. Poetry is my condition.

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