My precious one, That lies in the darkness of the sun, I fear, there's nothing I can do for you. I've remembered your cries, I don't know which ones are lies, I can't seem to see the real you. We can't look back, I can't bear to see your eyes sad, I will fall victim to the blue. Green swaths pave the road to your soul, My brain, and my heart have taken a toll, Precious one, do you bid ado? No more lying; Let's live with the stress. I know this relationship was once blessed, But now, its tainted. Our minds were once painted with swerved willow trees, And all of their dancing leaves were connected through one branch. And at that time, we had beautiful visions of having our own ranch, But these were all lost to the moon. "There are things you don't know about me", she said, And together, we split the last of our bread, As she tipped her flowers upon her head, "goodbye". I sat there, listening to the crunches of the roadside, Watching her
Some will say the day comes and goes, And some will be caught in its glory, or even its deadliness. Days will go by either way, whether you long for a better tomorrow, you have that better tomorrow, or you are nihilistic. At some point, the recognition of your stay isn't enough, and you will disappear into unwatedness. And then you will even have thoughts destroyed of your being. Wishful thinking breeds your mind, your will, your want of virtue, and even your love. But this wishful thinking, although it's your essence, is completely disregarded. Sometimes there will be points in your life in which destiny has no direction. Those points define your desires. Those points are really sharpening you, as an individual. If matter is you, you won't be alive in matter. Consciousness is not real, you are simply too difficult to be alive. And yes, you won't be you anymore.