Creative Collab

Wouldn't it be great to change?
-shed these bitter days - away...
Caught those confined conscripts,
and allow them a choice instead
Of withering away, and acting as if everything was ok.
Wouldn't it be wrong to right
The mistakes that pave the way
When the whispering silence
can be your friend anyway?

For what is right and what is wrong,
but a trick of thought?
wouldn't it be wonderful to believe
that these infinite laws mean naught?
And we'll wait and hope for better days
with intersecting paths and ways
of guiding light in day and night
Till the break of day can wash us clean
And we can feel again,
mending those cuts and gashes in between.

We breathe apart in different spectrums,
animating lifeless lines,
But though we are all different,
It's for the same thing that we pine.
These anabolic actions confused wandering Ghosts.

Whose purpose is defined, by the certainty of the lies we tell ourselves
"We can eternally sojourn in bliss."
They conceive a flawed, deranged ideal.

But in the twilight of your blank stare I see acceptance,
And only when misgivings are slain do you smile.
And my dear... it is in your smile that I find redemption.

For as I walk the beaten path of my broken dreams and hopes
Searching for what was once lost
I yearn within for those same moments
And that warmth we turned to frost.
As frozen kisses fall, like petals to the ground
so do my hopes as I realize the folly of my ways.
So here I stand before you,
deranged with fallen tears
plundered thine sanity
with upbringing of ones fears.


(But the description of ones past may alter ones internal disguise of refreshment)
For happiness wears miscommunication as a coat
I'm one to dream, but I supply logic on the need for feeling balanced
Because just like always I've never felt this way.
I've never felt so lost and alone, no one sees through this smile on my face
no one stops to ask, "are you really ok?"
because inside that smile my teeth are forming crops of ache-corns leaping from a half dead garden squirming beneath my earthlytoes.
Buried half-truths showed the way out, grinding those grinning teeth right out my mouth.

And though the breeze tears past my skin, slowly biting,
And turning my liquid miseries to ice;
I understand that one day, I can exonerate myself,
And live my own life; spread my own wings.