My brothers, I have yet to find the empty room you wanted.
I sit in this chair, leaving my mind on a ride through the tunnels of imagination, and my heart through the cavity of life.
The plateau has displayed its ideas, and I seem to find it too intriguing to pass up.
It may seem like a joke, but the bark of the tree is tasting good now, and the sun is melting my ice cream for a cycle of joy.
Far beyond, in the jungle, I wish to sort, and through the buildings of New York, I find the same chaos of unnamed mindfulness, and disdain for the one thing that powers our motivation.
My brothers, I find joy to be deceptive. I find space to be limited. Its ideas have not proven true.
Good things must end. And so, I breathe a power of lies, and the energy from the wall powers its only purpose.
For awhile, I earned the demonstration for goodness, and at that time it was nice.
But there's more that I refuse to accept. Maybe one day I will understand just what it means to lose.
For now, I look at all of you beautiful people with cherishment in my eyes about the days that once were.
I look to solve the embarrassment in my soul. In the far corner of the stars, a once beautiful life has taken a new form of entropy.
I wish to find infinity, and I wish to exploit my mouth for positivity.
However, there will be the day which it ceases to be, and hopefully, before then, I won't try so hard to stop it.