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Becoming open...
The constant tidal wave...
This emmersive embodiment of..........
I'm a star....
Amongst billions of others...
I strive to shine...
This illuminated shell..
My steadfast composure...
My passionate confident stride...
Infused and smothered...
With a coat of contented happiness..
As I hold with paws my heart within..
I've unclutched myself...
From this earth...
Where I'm always left..
As the cut of my blade...
I will sever myself..
As roots of a decaying world..
Sheerness will reflect...
As the mind locks and hones forward..
As I hold with paws my heart within..
The constant tidal wave...
This emmersive embodiment of..........
I'm a star....
With an ambitious distinction..
Amongst billions of others...
I strive to shine...
I am perfect at being me..
This is my only path...
Can't you see...
As I hold with paws my heart within..

Corruption and confusion become comfortable embedded
in our hearts as the darkness is eaten by the fire
from within. You're own deception fights for survival.
It's the darkness in your heart that fears for healing.
Fear not your own screaming ambition for happiness...
Something to work towards. Is this too much to ask?
Can I at least see that door? As I fight within myself.
The cold wintery collapse of the brilliance of my soul.
Was it me that left this clasp of truth within me?
As the drops of blood leave a path even in my own pleasantly
full memories tredged unto by the pain of never being able
to forget. Lest the years wasting time to destroy myself
so I can no longer hear the screaming within.
As I wander through this forest of life I can no longer
see pieces of myself waiting for relocation. Yet the
broken windows still cloud the image of the judged one.
As I take myself into that which I can no longer see..
Even if I could how could I ever ignore The Screaming Within..
To confide in what I know not should catch my attention
indefinitely even with great hope
shall I never forget. The overconfident convenience
amongst the weakening fare of our will. Amongst the braziers of emotion
that surround and create this emblazoned version of my life
I find myself still Even as I'm always there.
I buried myself as to not be seen and to be alone as now the
dreams of paying old self debts remind me to live and breathe.
The presence of my actions make me worry of the result and
my perceptional sense of time is spent stressfully corrective.
How can I best myself if my efforts seem more yet the result
seems always minished. As I listen to the screaming within
I become true to myself as I calm my storms until it sleeps.
Shall I not long for what I already have when it's easier
to just accept. This world is not my home as the broken
summit of fate.