A rebellion not against life but those long streaking shadows that drag it down from purity, taint the world we know.
Savoring dreams of perfection as to not let his mind be enveloped,
A lover of women for their strength and minds. Attitudes so akin to ours yet so very distant in all its formality. Women, the mothers of salvation and calm.
Raw emotion the torch he holds aloft, to lead himself across the night. But with the brightness attracting the attention of all, good and bad, the light fallen across his face for the world to see the man he is. Hear the words he speaks, the words he carries, bound together page to page.
Here the rhythm with the words, the flow of language in their text.
Puzzles pieced together once scattered upon the ground. Dare to be careful, these problems not solved of force and brutality.
The love lost, pasts burning holes in fond memories. A pain written in love upon a mighty heart. Weighed heavy with longing. A heart lead by a head so wise. Knowing the heart to well, of its moods and manuscripts, thoughts so dark and lonesome, but in time lightened by joy of highs unknown. Struggle the lows and savor the highs,
The monster he sees himself, the hero he longs to be. A man wishing never to be forgotten but fighting to not live in the past. To put behind him that which has made the man we see. Horrified by war, the throwing of young men and women at each others bullets. Senseless he can see, for how do you fight for peace when there is no peace to bring. All the energy we have for destruction can he simply ask you to use this to save us all.Torn from college, short of fruition. The tears felt and shared. Cut deep by deception.
The wolf he feels Yearning for the freedoms of the wild.
The majestic world his spiritual animal. Grace and power he possesses yet still staring longingly at the birds in the sky no ties to the earth. Their shoulders unburdened, and spirits free. No mourn for them to suffer. Never to waste the day