Reddit didn't appreciate it but i thought you guys might give it a look over. Its been awhile since I've posted here and while I did you guys really influenced me in way that stayed long after I left. You all gave me a lot to consider and wonder over so I thought I would show what I've been thinking about lately. Thank you for your voice, or the chance to hear it, and your patience. P.S. A girl helped too.
Alas
But I believe you are what heaven meant.
I know they told you what someone told them,
the word is gold where souls are sent.
And the world is whole
mourning dreams nightly dreamt.
An eternal present or sipped moment.
Random mine or blessed arrangement.
Clouds or lies, perfection or punishment.
You are heaven; what have you meant?
Hell, what is heaven without torment?
What is the mountain without descent?
What is regret without its friend;
who's grace I've never met,
all praise and glory to the one that forgets.
Be it sky, your arms, or on high,
the place of no relent
rests on the shoulders of monument.
Who blocks and darks a bleeding rock
and takes hand where a mighty thought took stock.
The pillar paces the trench in light
and a hole is dug as reword for such might.
Beneath what it hugs, wrapped up,
over its head; placed above,
placed on hearts and hands and dead,
the foundation formed;
a faces and fingered floor.
Oh! Heaven is high!
And why is answered easily from that rise.
For creator and subjects to mistakes and love,
hoist higher, heaven is a must.
It is written, scribbled just as much;
at its base, an utterance-- "At what cost?"
Yet I admit on broken back sits
the only chance for any heaven to exist.
Alas, to kiss goodbye romance
and sever ties with wealthy chance.
Not all love is good, he said,
god of empty air boasts;
told man of plans long ago,
filled his hands with hope,
dead held high his throne;
all good is love, he said;
seated Heaven's Atlas below.
Alas
But I believe you are what heaven meant.
I know they told you what someone told them,
the word is gold where souls are sent.
And the world is whole
mourning dreams nightly dreamt.
An eternal present or sipped moment.
Random mine or blessed arrangement.
Clouds or lies, perfection or punishment.
You are heaven; what have you meant?
Hell, what is heaven without torment?
What is the mountain without descent?
What is regret without its friend;
who's grace I've never met,
all praise and glory to the one that forgets.
Be it sky, your arms, or on high,
the place of no relent
rests on the shoulders of monument.
Who blocks and darks a bleeding rock
and takes hand where a mighty thought took stock.
The pillar paces the trench in light
and a hole is dug as reword for such might.
Beneath what it hugs, wrapped up,
over its head; placed above,
placed on hearts and hands and dead,
the foundation formed;
a faces and fingered floor.
Oh! Heaven is high!
And why is answered easily from that rise.
For creator and subjects to mistakes and love,
hoist higher, heaven is a must.
It is written, scribbled just as much;
at its base, an utterance-- "At what cost?"
Yet I admit on broken back sits
the only chance for any heaven to exist.
Alas, to kiss goodbye romance
and sever ties with wealthy chance.
Not all love is good, he said,
god of empty air boasts;
told man of plans long ago,
filled his hands with hope,
dead held high his throne;
all good is love, he said;
seated Heaven's Atlas below.
"Its not what your looking at that matters, its what you see." -Henry David Thoreau
♪Oh, I get lost in my mind Lost, I get lost I get Lost in my mind Lost in my Mind Yes, I get lost in my mind Lost, I get lost I get lost I get lost Oh, I get♪ -The Head and the Heart
"You are wise, witty and wonderful, but you spend too much time reading this sort of stuff.”- Frank Crane
♪Oh, I get lost in my mind Lost, I get lost I get Lost in my mind Lost in my Mind Yes, I get lost in my mind Lost, I get lost I get lost I get lost Oh, I get♪ -The Head and the Heart
"You are wise, witty and wonderful, but you spend too much time reading this sort of stuff.”- Frank Crane
