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Axion Prelude Jun 2014
on sacred shores, the patient await their answer. sometimes, that answer never comes.

and as we sit and wait, listening to the cool gentle breeze caressing our face, we like to think and hope that soft touch is the call we've wanted. the aching change in heart, the sound of destiny calling. we hope that once in our life, the emptiness of the room is the sound of the voices we wish and hope will call out our name.

sometimes, we know it's too late or it's too much that we're asking, but still we sit patiently, chanting songs of passionate desolation, hoping our sounds will be heard through these glass walls. fervently, we await, watching as fate passes us by, wondering what we did wrong or what we could have done to save ourselves the grief of never knowing true happiness. the faithless are always content with observing.

when the heart wishes for what's right, the weight of the world seems like nothing for the cost of romantic freedom. desperation lies cold and dead when the soul knows where it needs to go, intent on compromising naivety, showing spite for all things mediocre.

outside, the light shines bright, but inside it is always dark; and we seek warmth, forever. we await in anxiousness for the time we can feel that warmth once more. it is time to move forward.

privileged paranoia respites the remedy for cause and effect - no more
Axion Prelude Jun 2014
hope and expectation are at war
eternal conflict, reverberating endlessly
the struggle to know and the desire to want
seething within
tension breaks at the first word

marred with patience
quiet, silent, waiting
compassion resonates
kindness wanders silently
i am here
Axion Prelude Jun 2014
candid malice, besieging
drained by lucrative ignorance
frustration staining teared windows
the hole leaks with pure essence
once where the heart stood, emptiness retains resolve
desolation sets in
she calls, in the mind..
passion begets strife
i walk on
Axion Prelude May 2014
the sun sets with much disdain for the morrow; the wind, stale with defeat, whispers echoing clandestine guilt of things never meant to be.

the heart burrows deep unto solemn internal recourse, bound by flame and disgust, pleading to be set free and seen - to no avail

where does the mind go when the heart can't see? where do all the gentle words flee when there is no feeling left of hope or love?

to beseech is to abstain - they never listen. begotten by the ignorant, time seems lost in itself. where there was doubt, so came the demise of hope.

seek anew, rise above the pain. listen, speak, learn. the pale, sultry face of redemption is close. my savior and kindness. sweet humble voice of reason: save me from this doubt. your eyes speak to me and your mind drives the curiosity within wild with passionate conjecture.

you may be closer than you think
Axion Prelude May 2014
Lucid dreams of what could have been; another world or time, the difference staggeringly saddening. The time to find the means to an end goes too fast to comprehend it all as it comes. It floods the brain, the mind and heart. Overwhelming circumstance: motivation lost. Exacerbation kills creativity altogether; and the cycle repeats. I’m lost.
Axion Prelude May 2014
She
Amiss: the times forgotten; bestowed, a dark longing for power. Dried, empty and desolate. The past, a prelude of what is to come.

Desolation is misery's friend. But, the sun rises once more, as always. Complete, soft, warm; dependable, trusting, forgiving.

The light shines bright upon the horizon; and the subtle ache of needing more mires the necessity to beget what is wrought with strife and pale ignorance.

The red rose strives on, besieging my mind with agonizing desire to seed dissonance. Such kindness resonates within me. And the humble tone of honesty cascades a purer meaning.

She eludes me.

Paths cross but once in our lifetime. The choice is there, but the strength is not. The consequences are dire, rich with hate and loss and fear. The outcome? Always unknown.

The rewards? Eternal.

— The End —