In what way do i express the level of my inner self?
When what i'm feeling is a feeling that cannot be felt.
On deserted wings i fly through those nearest of waves crashing throught countless times and my innocent contingentcies.
Be i naive or just stupid?
Does it even matter?
As in the end a perfect balance sees to the equality of everything as a perfect nothing The "rapture" speaks of the anihalation of the wicked, but are we not all wicked?
And in addition, are we not all one in the same?
What have i to fear but the fear itself?
What have i to gain but the pain of knowing that i gained while others lost?
In a world as perfect as man himself, where do i find a place where i can honestly say that i belong? Am i unique?
Or am i mearly annother inperfection lucky enough to land myself a place among the living?
Lying awake, unable to succumb to sleeps comforting embrace, I ponder these things and many more night after night.
Unfit for even the vulgar and tasteless tattered pages of the internet, My thoughts scream honest truths of life and love.
My mind thinks thoughtful thoughts of a perfect world, And in every single one is one perfect truth.
A perfect world is a world nonexistent. As in tall tales of God and Jesus. In this way, my eyes close in quiet discomfort and as I sleep, I gain one less night of my life.