Be weary of your mind,
For it is boundless.
Seeing across dimensions
And through time
It cannot distinguish what is real
And what is not
At least, not on its own
I’ve always found that our minds are more capable than we give them credit for, but also less capable than some of us imagine it to be. Our society today was imagined by someone, and I genuinely believe our minds are able to create more than words in a book and pictures in a movie, enough people just have to instigate the change…
Things are rarely as they seem
A vail of decisions,
Paths and alterations,
Endless choices to choose from.
But what you can always count on
Is that it will always be there
To help you through these crossroads
What is it you might ask?
It’s something that everyone has
Appears differently to each own
There is no name to that which I speak
Only it is not an all powerful presence
As it’s bound by the earth
Realistic and pragmatic
Demanding nothing of you
But your attention
Curse your prophesy
Let me have uncertainty to enjoy
Don’t give me responsibilities,
At the hands of your prediction
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My body is trapped in the now,
This is true.
but your mind is boundless
And can see beyond anyone’s view
Bones are that which keeps you here
Turn to dust and your soul will yield
Forgive this old fool
For the mistakes he’ve made
Leave me be and let the past fade
Writing, saves your thoughts on paper
Giving room for new ideas to come to life
But be aware
Words are never fully expressed in the written form
Limited by language
Which your mind does not use
Consumed by darkness
Three worlds was never seen
Despair ruled their lives
For hope had never been
Until one day,
The sun took pity,
On the people of the worlds of three.
And so the veil of shadows dissipated
The people once again roamed free
In a cave lay hidden
The secrets of old
Our life drawn from its roots
And our being grown from its trunks
We are the mystics of nature
Descendants of a singular emotion
Stored deep within the mold
But unity has embraced us
We no longer need to follow its creed
yet our hatred will never vain
As we grow into the hold
Interests should be few and far between
Society demands
But the world cannot be understood
From one school of thought
Or a single study
But a multitude of ideas
Shared and expressed through time
In essence,
We see the world through the eyes of the few
Yet, experiences it through the eyes of the many
Thoughts made by those free of conflict
We want to be remembered
The Horrors of Writing 