Life.
Life is nature. Life is what brings us
joy, and sadness. One adventure ends as another begins. Life is what
brings us together. We thrive to understand, and to be understood. We
succeed where we fail, we fail where we proceed. Being ambiguous is
easy, being clear is natural. How have we become who we are? Desire,
flaw, temptation. We are complicated, God sees us simply. We learn,
we fall, we fly. Not necessarily in that order, but effectively.
Nonetheless. No anaphora fits any scene. Frequently I stop and
ponder. Many times I ponder, then move. Thought ties connections, but
without others the web remains dangled. We are so different, we are
all one, but unique. Unbalanced we strive, but young blossoms we are,
we see no sunlight. Our buds yet to burst. We know the light is
there. We can feel it, but the fog blots the sky. We built the fog.
We travel the road, we carry the fire, we are desperate. For whom?
For what.
How come? We love. We know. We feel. We
escape, finding ourselves at a new level. A sorry level. We wish for
better, not knowing what we have. We drag. We pull, we carry.
Sometimes we run, never stopping for breath. We want to get away.
From ourselves. Masochists know the unreality of it. We created who
we are, yet to desire to escape? We are imperfect. We find pride
where regret should be. We refuse, because we dream. We dream,
because it's all we can do. That is false. We work, we strive. But then we fall. Fall with the ground beneath us. We don't want to be
caught. Our hearts say likewise. We wish for strength to move alone,
but God knows we are weak. Only ambitious with no end, the end near.
Who are we? We know who we are, but we
wish we did. We misunderstand. Trials come from us. All comes from
within. We know not of ourselves. It takes another to teach. A mind
only works when open. An open door, another opportunity. We grant
every wish a potential by reaching.
Then we stand. We feel anew again.
Blood rushes back to our feet, and so we run once more. We run home.
Every down has an upward movement. A glance, and we're back. We paint
the big picture. Too much time spent on details unworthy. Each stroke
is a piece of who we are. The paint glistens and lights up the fog.
Fresh and untempered. Unhampered. We focus ahead with intensity, the
ocean carried in our eyes. Deep, immovable. Firm in principle. The
wall has risen. The energy of the worlds unknown creates a vast
impossibility of possibilities. We push, we move, we strive.
