Walk for Justice©

Sun, 11/10/2013 - 14:55 -- Gylin65


Dead or Alive 

To cross the path is to only walk now. As the edges are fragil and tear. As to cross into our dreams.. 
To daydream is to dream to day..... 
As to night is to mare...

But at least I hold onto my dream.....
As I walk, is to HOW? 

The things we want are always and forever, pulling us into this web of an illusional, materialistic world. This world has no value or consent. This world is an obsession and not to be taken lightly, to be balanced within our limits; or we fall to our death. How do I awaken this beast within? This beast that constantly tempts and roars for satisfaction? Or, would I just rather slumber in my dreams, that never seem to come alive. 

Is it easier to proclaim abstraction, than into this introduction, of such a remote love? Or is it easier to step; into the midst of the living, than to keep an open heart, through the thick of it?
Should you be there where you are needed the most? The one that is at center's reach. The one that seems to reach up; but yet never grasping the cognitions, within that reach. Simply, because of no other reasons, other than your own. Those reasons; in which no other person, can possibly call their own, or understand them, even though they share common ground. Self gratification called closure. Will it truly ever satisfy one's heart? 

The most of it is subtracted, by that closure. The rest is only deepened, once knowing the thin line. Destined. Till love; or death, re- creates. 

Shall the acclamation we once knew, be our presence, or shall it be our absence?

My concerns are .. named as stated.. as these days are continuing to count by, one by one.

My questions remain the same.. as underestimated.. As the time continues to click by, minute by minute. 

My faith is still on the edge, of the outside.
My stress is tearing the edges of the inside.

My life, is sworn ...

It should be so simple now. This complexity of a situation, that has damaged the very essence of my being. The complexity of destruction; that destroyed not only my life, but also the lives, of many others. The solution should be so simple now. The obstacles are over. This chaos one created; along the turmoil of all interpretation. has
Prevailed it's own outcome. The repitition has lead it's course. Among it's superiority; we're left. Left only the bits and pieces, of an out of context jig - saw puzzle. A puzzle having an origin of it's own beginning. an origin that never knows it's end.

A new beginning. A new life. A life, that would be called my own. 

My life is born...

The solution seems to be so simple when you spell it out.

Poetry Slam: 
Guide that inspired this poem: 


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