Sanctuary

"Peace!" cries the crowd.
"Sanctuary!" cries my soul, as I beat upon the iron doors that hold my fate in the palm of their jeweled hands.
"Peace!" cries the crowd.
"Sanctuary!" cries my heart, as I plead with envy for the answers to my undying questions.

Time elapses and Fate deserts my cravings of knowledge; soon the crowd overtakes my mind, leaving no survivors and devouring my imagination. What becomes of a heart torn in multiple directions? Does it break? Does it burst into a thousand brilliant pieces? Does it stretch? Oh how lovely it would be if a heart could retain an amount of elasticity; the ability to move in all directions of which it is pulled. How sweet the notion; so sweet to prove it's inexistence. Damn the confinements of a young mind, untainted by the world, unlearned by experience. If only my thoughts could provoke the genius within, so as to create a disturbance in the void of my now demolished wonderland.

I'm torn.
One direction yells from above.
Another from below.
A third from the west.
The last from the east.

Still at a loss.

One says yes.
Another, no.
A third says maybe.
The last says wait.

It's the feeling of total confusion with a splash of utter certainty. The grey knowledge of what is right, and what is half right. What is fun, and what is to be done. Sadly, I cannot give in to temptations that hold no value, and sadder still, I cannot obtain the joyous sentiments of a ghostly past. It is not quite a doomed state, nor quite light at the end of my tunnel, merely a deviation from the original route I traveled. A sorry state of affairs all to end too soon.

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

Please...
Just forget the world...

Harmonic Chaos

Harmonic chaos...
Pandemonious serenity...
Tranquil turmoil...

My mind is running a marathon; my heart pounding rapidly as it pumps blood to every cell in my body. My lungs gasp for breath as they absorb each molecule of oxygen, in hopes of fueling life. The endurance to keep the race alive, to keep going, is quickly leaving my side; some call it giving up. Why strive for the unattainable, when the unattainable is unbearable to attempt to attain? They say, "Reach for the stars", but what if the stars are out of reach? People write songs and poetry on love. How wondrous it is, how great love can be, and also how terrible it is, how wretched it has the potential to become. We write all we want on love yet when it knocks on our door, we haven't a clue as to who or what it is. Love is many a splendid thing that money can't buy, and love can take a toll on our souls, but how often can you look a stranger in the eye and say, "I know what love is."? You can't. Love is something that is forever learned, and although some may have a stronger grasp on the concept, no one can fully fathom it's greatness, it's abilities, and it's hurting potential. Like penicillin to an infection, love can cure all things, yet like a dagger to the heart, love can be more deadly a weapon than anything man could create. Happiness and joy many times are wrought from love, yet you hear of the destruction it can cause, and the damage it can do to a soul so fully lost in love, they've no means of escape.

There's a story of love found, love lost, renewed, and love found unattainable. When one was given love, into their hands, just handed on a silver platter, they dropped it upon the ground. Love shattered into pieces, taken away by the wind, and lost from their life, seeming for forever. Eventually Fate felt pity upon the broken hearted, and pieced together love anew, to the best it could, and gave it to the hurting soul. Sadly, no tale of mistreated love ends happily, and with renewed love, Fate had bestowed a love that was true, but a love that was not to be. A match made for heaven, but forbidden on earth. A love unattainable.

It is at this point where the broken hearted weeps its spell, and moves on. A point comes where happiness for the love-ee is of greater importance to the lover than a love returned, however sweet that might have been. It is this point where the lover learns what love is; where a lover finds that to love and not be loved in return truly is better than to never have loved at all.

With a saddened heart I wrote, and with a consoled soul I finish.

Harmonic chaos, pandemonious serenity and tranquil turmoil can live in peace; opposites must live together otherwise man would not know the good to the bad...

For without suffering, there could be no compassion.