How many more

How many more will you alienate,

How many more will be left estranged

How many more will you pull close to,

How many more will you push away

How many more, how many more

How many more shall enter thy life

How many more will be forgotten

How many paths will be treaded

How many to be left unwalked

How many more will there be the wronged

How many more will there be negligence of

what's at home

To right, the wrongs....

How many will you make wrong,

How many wrongs will you look away...

How many more will you leave asunder

How many, after the trust is gained

How many more will you close your eyes onto

How many more will the lies be said

How many more, I wonder at times,

Before your eyes open, How many more

How many more prayers will be said for you

How many more, before you take the last breath

I wonder,

How many more will you alienate,

How many more will be left estranged

How many more, how many more

Before you take the last breath, that last sigh

I close my eyes, wishing this nightmare would end yet when opened they are still there.

My escape, my solace is where, I do not know, I do not understand.  A smile, I look the other way, yet it comes back

I look at myself from a distance, arms folded, hair flowing in the evening breeze looking onto the shore.... thoughts nothing but in silence, in questions so much to the extent that they have left dumbfounded.

I would take to flight if I'd know where resides my niche, for it is unknown, it is hidden .... wonder if it is hidden for does it exist?  I wonder. 

Rain droplets splish splash on the ground, drenched in it as it hits my body, my palms ... I wish, I wish to stay there and time stops right there .... i dream to encounter

Time evades memories, if of sweet nothings then also of vilest vitriol...... but does it when it returns, and it comes back to haunt....whispering, lurking right there.... 

Escape

It may seem like the sane world would turn crazy with the left hearing the alter of the right, of perky, soothing anythings.

Escape. You rise with it than move at all.

As these bones ache with sleeplessness, devoted the work of nothing else than what is asked for or not, temperatures rising and falling.

There is this wall that separates the real from fantasy, for at the left is the reality but you escape, by walls, by closing doors yet it keeps pressing ... you are reminded of it time and again.

Think, or believe it doesn't exist - that you would wish, but it is still there. You move further away as these walls are paper thin and this agony of the scramble of what you hear left and right may just turn you crazy if you stay there any longer.

Wishing, longing it would end. It does. Not too soon to rejoice, just for a while as you situate yourself further. Then as you forget and you return, it is back there, waiting to nag you, to mock your forgetfulness.

Do you close your eyes or do you keep them open ... To escape from this vile truth, for closing these eyes only show nothing else but darkness, of a lonely moon in a dark, gray night, of silent waters, of a breeze that whispers by your hair; it shall pass, or will it ... Just listen to the waves, just listen to me - What do you hear?

Nothing else than what makes belief of a timely escape ...

The Lone Ranger

The Lone Ranger ... treaded a path of silence, searching for oneness, of closeness. So the lone ranger searched high and low for for a people he could run to, for sincerity, for all things pure.

What the lone ranger had gone through brought him to the level of being wary of trust. While the lone ranger was reluctant to step into this soil of entrusting, he was forced to believe with constant appearances, involving in their happenings and mishaps. He had those who kept him on a pedestal with a promise to be always there... with constant reminders a bond of trust was made again, then the times changed and all promises forgotten. Harsh words quickly replaced what was, keeping the lone ranger puzzled for what else could be as another took the pedestal, one by one.

Thorns of Righteousness

I was born like you, I was bred like you

I had a childhood like you, I had a life like you

I breathed the same air as you did, I lived in the same land as you did

But what I did not have like you is what turned everything apart

For I wasn’t stone-hearted like you, I wasn’t a bigoted soul like you

I was a kind-hearted soul unlike you, I preached the message of peace unlike you

Who are you?

You are the one who took this innocent soul, The one who took the law in his own hands

Who forgot there is the One and only Almighty God; Who, when comes to catching there is nowhere to hide.

You may not need to run now, as the law is at your side,

You can hide under the pretense of a righteous deed

Which was the most foul indeed

Sometimes it is better to let things be

I got this in the mail today and felt it needed to be saved here =)

A Butterfly's Lesson

Video: Screaming Baby Stops When Obama Holds Her | Tonic

Just a few days ago, a video was uploaded to YouTube of the Obamas’ holding a screaming baby while their proud parents stood nearby snapping photos. Surprisingly, Michelle’s motherly touch couldn’t stop the baby from crying, so Barack took matters into his own hands, literally.

When the President held the crying baby, she immediately got quiet and peaceful. Of course Obama shot Michelle a playful “I’m so good” look. Check it out below.

Original post: Video: Screaming Baby Stops When Obama Holds Her | Tonic