Forgotten Beauty

Since I started writing I have always kept one underlying theme in mind that I believe very strongly in. And no, if you've read any of my stuff, it's not that humanity is a plague. It's that humanity is plagued, plagued by its views of life and narrow perceptions. We live our lives as if someone is going to punish us if we don't feel enough pain and anguish within the quarrels of our everyday affairs. I mean, every day for most people seems to be more of a burden than a joy by the way they express what they feel inside. It's all worries about this and that, petty problems that mean nothing beyond today. Yet they let it build up inside them until the slight irritation becomes the end of the world and there's a knife being held to someone's throat, someone who they don't even know. Thus our fury and rage blinds us into to forgetting everything but ourselves and the egocentric status quo. The beauty of the world is forgotten as we close our eyes to everything but the shadows who teach us society's flaws, putting the world economy before the world itself. Why though? I have no idea. But I do have a poem that further illustrates my point, which is posted below. After that is another poem of which has a similar meaning. enjoy!

The Budding Oak

In society there looms a shadow

Who has cast darkness upon the land,

Unable to escape the labyrinth

They lose the will to understand.

Blinded by the sight of seeing nothing

They limit their eyes to less than what they see,

The forecasted, temporary storm cloud

Brings eternal misery.

Cycles pass within the hour glass

As its essence shifts from hand to hand,

Like the well of life it’s draining

As centuries get buried under sand.

The budding oak begins to dream.

In the field there looms a wizard

Who has cast a blaze upon the land,

Unable to escape the labyrinth

He conquers what he can.

Agonized by the lies he believes in

He releases the flames stored up inside,

Innocence burns just as the others

Until the last of the fires has died.

The ignition spark cools to only concealment

As the ashes of fury find broken souls,

The blood of the inferno’s draining

Into a river none can control.

The budding oak sits by the stream.

In the orchard there looms a worm

That has cast a trend upon the land,

Unable to escape the labyrinth

It comes up with new demands.

No longer is one apple enough

So it seeks to strengthen lust and greed,

Branch by branch it claims them all

Hording the wants it needs.

The cores of the apple soon line the dirt

Underneath the hungry soul of I,

The bigger picture and greater good

Are lost to egocentric eyes.

The budding oak sees through the mist.

In the box there looms a world

That has cast a shadow upon the land,

Unable to escape the labyrinth

We forget that we can stand.

Perception is a gift without batteries included

Of which many decide to not obtain,

Thus petty importance tears us down

And turns the rain into a hurricane.

The mist of reality bears no truth of what’s right

Yet we adhere to pains that nobody should know,

Society’s vision is selective and narrow

We perceive not with mind, but with status quos.

The budding oak lives unnoticed.

Winter’s Wake

The breeze blew briskly through the air,

Snow sheets spiraling down in fair,

The dry grass drowning in despair,

Wallowing in winter’s wake.

The fields are full of fluffy white,

The surface soil hidden from sight,

The dirt deterred from its delight,

Wallowing in winter’s wake.

The towering trees keep in toe,

Completely covered by crisp snow,

Bulky branches hanging below,

Wallowing in winter’s wake.

Slowly the rivers and streams sojourn,

The lakes are frozen land mammals learn,

Running water and warmth they yearn,

Wallowing in winter’s wake.

The wind whispers out its words,

Bearing burdens for the birds,

Holding them in huddled herds,

Wallowing in winter’s wake.

The sky is swallowed in shady clouds,

The sun is shielded in a shroud,

And its light we aren’t allowed,

Wallowing in winter’s wake.

The clouds continue to heed no call,

Fanatically the snow flurries fall,

Sapiens sadden since storm won’t stall,

Wallowing in winter’s wake.

Schools get closed and children can play,

Snowmen, snowballs, and sliding all day,

Wondering why the world does stay,

Wallowing in winter’s wake.