there comes a time in life when we no longer care for nor feel the spite. we learn to feel numb and move on. i feel that day to day. the feel of morphine moving through your body, clouding even your mind. and as this happens, we feel not the deadend weight, but the chains of mockery and hate pull us down. sorrow floods our veins, and before we know it we are completely alone, with no hand-holds.
then there is a shift, and maybe this happens at a strange time, maybe not. the feel of happiness will be almost tangible! the tears will wipe from your eyes, and you will nod unto your captors that you accept this life. However you wonder, what is the price? no gold, no money, not even property will give you a prize this great. No, nothing but everything will pay this debt.
Your family, friends, grades, your standings, the clues will all faultier at the hand of this most honourable prize. tell if you can, what does this mean. what is this "prize" you cannot forsake? No one can tell you, you must know your self. the substance of your dreams, the love in which you partake. A fantasy you imagine, your own perfect world, where you can be the center, the out ward, the in.
Now all of the "haters" must think of this: if your dream is redemption, your world shall be bliss. to all of the lovers i only say this: if your dream is to be loved, it starts with a kiss. And to all of you people who wait by the sides, who wish to be seen, without battle scares, the show light awaits.
You wonder now, what is this place, full of different worlds, fantasy, a place you create. I will tell you now, what the key is to this place, so all of your dreams will some day take flights.
It starts with a paper, a pen in the hand, & an imagination wound so tight, ready to spin.