Three Parts.

That which is broken, to whom was hurt,
The passing of a phase, the pain of sin,
Tortured, trampled, treated as dirt,
Bow down Ego, take a back seat now Id!
This isn't mutiny, just a take on harmony,
A choice to give, similarly received,
The very idea is, to
Forgive.

A momentary silence...

A thought arises.

Picture rich white and gold, a soft halo glow,

A spell to break moans, whines, and grumbles,

Reaction for an expression, the sound of content,

A humble utter, coated with grace,

Not necessarily louder, yet filled with power,

Release it in one breath, count to two, 

A simple,

Thank-you.

Now to empower gratitude and the wash of misgivings,

A feeling arises.

Imagine food in abundance for none to hunger,

A world with love, for the flowers.

Passion for justice, the people in full believe,

Hands in unity, united supremacy.

When all is strengthened, who then but weak?

Emotional and ideal, perceived as meek,

Truly, Hope is all we ever need.

Through this trinity,

Love! arises.

White Dragon.

Shy from attention, mountain deep.
Facade of culture to cover in sleep.

Come the ninth month, skies part.
Crowds gather in delight, fireworks spark.

From a sombre slumber, a purr...
The white dragon, finally stirs.

Robin.

Small and soft she quivers in my palm,

She is a free thing,

Not to be contained.

Yet,

Not yet,

I hold her a little tighter.

I take pleasure in this guilt,

I think,

What if I snap a leg?

What if I squeeze so tight I pop a head?

Countless ways to kill…

To express my pain through her suffering!

I envy her freedom,

She’s free from thoughts,

Strictly survival,

No choices; no decisions,

No bills, just bliss…

Fly then,

"Leave me as you would!”

By all that is natural,

The subtlest truth,

With all she knew,

She flew.

Reasoning.

I wish to know where to go,
Is there someplace that I should be?
Be there where growth is free.

I wish to know what to do,
Is there a clue?
Be true through thoughts and deeds.

I wish to know how to live,
Is there a need for me?
Be, just simply,
Be.

Blood, Flowers, Both And Between.

The heat is real, dirt in abundance, through it and for all, everything is made. What more challenging than to come in agreement with what an action truly is? As it grows, everything shifts, itself and themselves. Is man fool for his constant, the unwillingness to change?

Godlike.

There’s an undercurrent swiftly flowing unbeknownst, perhaps forgotten is appropriate; we (must) as well stop navigating, anchors raised, allowing an effect as such as the wind would rush through a tunnel, not cumbered, even if blocked, in a moment. This thread needled with certainty into many folds of ridiculous nature. One reason, to excuse a risk. 

Until this flower bleeds out, both sides and in between, will accept. 

Red Gray Alike.

Rush of force into an eternal space deep within.

It didn't seem real, it never does because it changes so often like waking up from a dream; a second a reality, the next a realisation.

I beg for selfishness so thoughts would cease and the execution materialises.

A calamity of the mind.

Wondrous possibilities.

One Cause.

Dare to move and it wont go beyond truth
Reminiscing on self preservation
Make a hey/holla to round and around whats done

Given the chance,
They have done denied
What about now,
Come crawling begging chances

It wasn't always what you were expecting
End to a beginning as it is a start
Done, and move, let go-
Free your space,
From hate, race outta circles fake alike
Action- action, now take delight

Come night, grab what's left and run
Into starry yellow sun
Ha- gone, safe and say to sound
Peace of mind then left undone