Elucidating Questions

It’s a cruel thing to note, that they are gold regardless of the colour they are painted during the night in the dark canvas of the lights

That there is silver in the threads like setting to keep them together when the red begins to fray.

That the beautiful pottery that was once made of clay, folded in with golden threads and lines to make it whole again

So we go back to explain, what you can’t see them?

It’s not seen it’s felt, the pain like a bruise on the heart, the shock of cold, hating everything as it comes

There’s no sights set, no seeing of the future for anyone else. After all, I’d rather not hear.

It’s after all, bleak, nothing, empty, alone.

And I’m not even afraid. Respect for it, but nobody wants to hear,

So who cares if it happens? Just one, eyes twitching, exhausted, alone, lonely, and forgotten.

Imagining up unanswered unanswerable questions to agonise.

Trying to explain that regardless it’s just a human body.

I see beauty everywhere but here. I look up and feel people who pass by should have a good day and I wish there were no adversary,

I never understood why it had to end in violence and sadness.

Overcame the thoughts of it. It seemed like every creator was a creator with an opposite,

It seemed until the pieces of stories were filled in,

And realisation that the true characters the same, and it could happen any second,

That’s a true fear. It simply drowns out, as the crow lands and causes a feeling

And then flies away.

What you need will leave.

My true enemy is silence, now you are the bad guy, but the truth hurts.

This silence that followed from day one on, the day one that starts way back when or some other time.

Justify why we should have done this, and there is no such thing.

People have conversations with other people, there’s no conversation with me.

People have support and give support, but as always,

The answer is:

We’re okay.

No, you are okay,

And the other side is fine with that, the being left behind.

While it’s like a joke again, you did this to yourself.

The things I must apologise for, I did and no one heard.

The things they made up that I apologised for regardless, I did and no one cares.

The things I need, when I never wanted or needed things.

When all I wanted, was one word.

And now all I want is to know someone can hear me.

Can you hear me? And if I write the next part it turns sour.

We did as we were told and played the game.

So he could keep playing, but he wouldn’t play.

So now we play alone, in silence every day.

Why is it missing? Why is that missing?

The town beneath the seas with the lands that breathe beneath. Fields unseen, lands untouched.

So how could such a place be forgotten and why was it told? When they sail away and farther than before, and the cameras that surround the outside of the inside, they have seen all yet

Worlds unseen by the eyes of the eyes, what cannot be perceived by anything seen only by those who could see it

It’s not that island or this island, the castles in the skies, the palace in the waves, the temple in the shallows, the roads that lead,

Inevitably, to the seas.

After all, billions before, but we will never escape the water.

Once the water runs out, once the air takes it away, once the river is empty, once the stars no longer shine,

It will continue to flow beyond the ending, the valley of the heavens, the mountain of the climbers, the island created,

I see in my eye, as these old stories, converge and deny. Sent by the messenger,

To the world, the gentle melodies of the pieces of instruments, even as the bass drum sounds,

They say he started it, the fight for all for all for one for one.

Locked in a cage beneath the waves, the wings shoot out into the cage’s claws, the teeth fall out and the arm reached out

And no hand connected, to the siren in the cage, justify being lonely

Justify the breath taken, as the head hit the air. No fins or tails, the sun above, swimming to land to try to find out what

But the hallways beneath the waves with the pictures that spoke, and the forgotten feeling,

Reading the spell before it was cast if only anything was as simple as that,

Not done to them but by around them

Staring at the colours and thinking, there’s only something missing,

If there’s no one to smile along side.

But the feelings are so hollow these days as stumbling down a street with no thought and the only feelings are pain,

To turn it off makes it seem like everything must be okay,

To acknowledge it would bring about no good and only pain.

They leave me alone, they leave every time.

Can someone hear the cries

Of the lonely orca?

If you scream when he touches he never stops coming to tell of the things you could have heard

We both know how it ends because all ends end the same. The ocean to be pushed into, the falling down the mountain.

One side into the ocean that continues for what always looks like infinity,

Until the closer you get there is things that have not been shown or seen before.

The anxiety of being above, when the wings aren’t in control, the feeling of looking down.

Safer if I could just swim, safer if there was no cold or tired.

Even above the ground that same fearful looking of maybe too high but

The beauty of the ocean frozen in space, the islands coming into view as the lands are revealed.

Regardless of time or what to look down on a feeling of

Yes, there are cities there, but the forest calls and the fields tumble and the connection to a land untraveled.

I forgot the story, but I remembered the boy

Of ravens I could read it again, refresh the mind, return to his name as he was a spirit

I don’t remember, I don’t know where it went, somewhere before. A gift received, the pages somewhere

And the voice of this, the one who I still miss every day, not a day goes by without him on my mind too,

These words that weave backwards and forwards.

Can’t know what I am, or can I?

And with knowing it, simply the music thinks medicine after all the doctor is also apparently that.

Sometimes you stand on the lines and see the fires that are burning.

While those who have vacation every day, we can take everything from those.

Sometimes you walk the line above home, and beside it and below it where nighttime is a place that can be seen.

Sometimes you step on the crack to hold it together as the ocean whistles a tune.

Sometimes inland, and sometimes far far far away.

And sometimes, right beside.

Give hope to those who have no hope, anything,

I see you, and I feel nothing but understanding.

This situation out of control,

They won’t but I will,

You’re alive, and you deserve to see a better world than this.

Sometimes words don’t come clear, and it’s just fine how it is.

Sometimes there is a terrible place that needs to feel something.

I only want to look one place, and that’s just how it is.

It doesn’t change the pain.