War

In the desert a bush is aflame.

We try to put it out, but glory prevails.

The Bush speaks out, it says to fight thine enemy,

Kill those that don’t follow the Lord, Our Savior.

The Bush tells us to take up arms against the

Moslem infidels that take us contra arms up.

That burning Bush, lets irony prevail.

The burning Bush sent me to this desert to burn.

Terror ensues, as the two great towers of religion

Collapse, killing thousands in the ash.

One of the towers fell first, but no one’s sure which one.

Buddhists watch in terror as the heathens that are left

In dust, and rubble begin to light the world aflame.

Neither cross nor crescent can survive this war.

I’ve survived two tours and now it’s time for a third.

My country in ruins, I walk around the streets and gaze

Upon what used to be. The two towers are gone.

A small memorial remains in their place.

My God has tested my faith so;

I have seen hell on earth, and I’m not ready to go.

Flawless

The world tells you that nobody’s perfect, and looks down on you when you say that you are good at something.

Be humble it says.

If you do something great don’t get excited.

They say that you can’t talk about how great you are.

Yet, after the world breaks you, beats you a thousand times,

That is the one thing I need.

I would say that I’m flawless because all my flaws are what makes me who I am,

But those flaws are what the world has told me is bad about me.

I’m tired of letting others dictate my thoughts.

I AM PERFECT.

Let me have that.

Everyone deserves one day where they can feel that way, where the world seems to bow at their feet.

I DESERVE THAT.

With all of the shit you have put me through world let me have that.

People call me a genius, and I agree.

I’m a fucking genius.

But I can’t enjoy anything good about me because being proud of yourself is a flaw.

If you think that you are great at something, you are just a conceited jerk.

I’m proud of my grades, but if I tell other people I’m an ignorant jerk.

I work hard.

I never give up, even at the things I’m not so great at.

Yet, there’s this euphoria when I finally do something right,

Those that are perfect at it the first time will never understand.

When hard work pays off and I can think to myself, I did it.

I did something to show the world that I’m good at something, I’m special.

Yet, even in that moment, if I told them how perfect I felt, they would throw me into a chasm,

To show me that jumping high shouldn’t put me on my high horse, because I’ll never jump high enough to get out of this.

But I don’t get high. I stay high above those in my high school that do drugs.

And yes I sound conceited, yes I sound like a jerk.

But if talking about the good things I’ve done makes me sound that way,

I care not about the world that thinks so.

I am perfect.

I AM PERFECT.

I’ve had to fight so hard to feel this way.

I’m on top of a mountain, but I still have to fight the world, miles below.

Because no matter how perfect, how flawless, I feel.

They try to pull me back down.

Back down to that chasm,

Right back into my failures, my flaws.

But I can’t stop fighting.

I think of my accomplishments,

And try to forget my mistakes.

I AM PERFECT.

I AM PERFECT.

I am perfect.

Please let me stay that way.

Kidnapped

My captors have been quite kind to me,

Much more than their predecessors.

The first ones found me on the streets,

Coming in a roaring earthquake, at which I was the epicenter.

Trapped in a cage I then looked for escape.

I tried to squeeze through the bars to no avail.

They returned seeming strangely elate,

And punctured me with a glaring needle.

After some time I observed my surroundings.

Hidden in the room were hundreds of others,

Imprisoned with no real grounding.

They must keep our screams muffled.

They opened our cells to give us food scraps,

When they came to me I refused to be trapped.

My escape was easily foiled, but patient I must be.

There is always a route, and always a way,

To regain one’s liberty.

Nothing can keep me from being free.

They moved me one day, so I cut them with my nails.

This new room was filled with what i can only describe as slave buyers.

If I went with them it would be much harder to fail

In my quest for freedom, so my hopes were raised higher.

“Notice me, buy me, I’m the most valuable asset here.”

I showed my strengths and attracted a single slaver.

My heart beat fast, my moment was near.

“Soon I will escape and I’ll finally be safer.”

The slaver tossed me in a coffin, and drove me to his home.

He began calling me some name in his strange language.

Yet, he fed me well and allowed me to roam

And to the streets I lost my languish.

If I escape they will come for me again,

I won’t be so lucky, and I’ll die in a cage.

Now I’m in a prison, but can leave any time.

I pretend to love my masters, and they leave me alone.

My work is quite easy, I must simply chime

A song, or entertain them with everything I know.

Why should I leave, it’s safer at present.

I can’t leave, it might be worse outside.

My age as I count it is seven,

As the day I was taken, was the day I died.

My identity is young, but my body old.

As I’ve grown frailer my captors have barely grown.

I can no longer overpower them, despite what I’ve told.

My life is wasted simply sitting in their home.

Death. The truest freedom I could ever have.

It ends their happiness. Revenge through loss of love.

Justice

Heavy is the soul of the man with the gavel.

Heavy is the weight of the sins he’s committed.

He would himself to hell just to feel whole.

And justly so for what he’s permitted.

Rocking back and forth in cell,

A man looks to escape from hell.

Innocent he is (in most ways),

but burning he has been for days.

Oh so heavy his shackles are

And so much regret he feels.

Blackened not is his heart.

At the altar he readily kneels.

His sentence was death

For resisting arrest,

From an officer of the law

That eagerly broke his jaw.

But the humility of the other.

To endure so much in duty to his city.

Each day he feels he locked up his brother

Then he goes home, and eats away his pity.

The innocent starves, awaiting the end.

He had so much to live for and so much to defend.

He has to die for fighting back

Against a racist cop that saw he was black.

The judge regrets greatly,

Those sent to death row.

Those men that were white and wealthy,

And the officers in prison that he knows.

The man looks at the rope.

The judge smiles with hope.

He got that guilty dope,

He chuckles a bit as he watches the man choke.

Euphoria

Euphoria is the feeling of indescribable happiness when nothing bad can change your mood. It is that feeling you get when you try to push the earth and it moves. When all hope seems lost yet somehow just from your own work, you manage to retain hope and success comes your way. It's that bliss of endorphins running through your head preventing you from thinking of anything but how unbelievable what happened was. It's disbelief combined with unfiltered, elated joy. Euphoria is ecstacy. Euphoria is euphoric.

Victory

I feel a great nervousness before.
They told me we'd lose, I said no.
We destroyed the Persian Army
And proved our worth to everyone.
The bliss of the triumph is the
Most unimaginable feeling.
We had lost many times before,
But this time we won, greatly so.
Every woman and every man
That fought fills my heart with joy and
Tears flow from my eyes as I see
Utter beauty from reaching it,
The insurmountable peak, reached.
That coherence of improbable
Acts occurring melded into
One unbelievable victory.
One last time. Giving everything.
Pushing Sisyphus' boulder
Up his mountain forevermore.
As a team we're unbeatable,
And forever victorious.

Always

Falling, falling like the snow.
You run towards me and hold out your arms.
You catch me and I gasp at my luck.
How could something so delicate, so nice, so sweet.
Appear that one night and save me from harm?
You and I, both like snow, blanketed across a landscape without muck.
So serene, so fantastical, life was incomplete
Until that fateful night that we both know.

Chance, chance. Odds and statistics.
How can something so unlikely happen at all?
A flower blooms in the winter
A snowflake lands on another.
Certainly on something it had to fall
But now the two are impossible to sever.
They are one now and forever.
Could it be chance, or fate, the divine logistics?

Does it matter the method?
Only the perfection of the chemical bonds.
The two snowflakes are in heaven.
And their icy love will always burn strong.

Whenever you fall I will catch you
Whatever at all I can to help you.

We are snowflakes that will never melt.