Some can be brave even though they're dying. They speak honestly to their God and leave a little bit of their souls in everyone they love. This figure does not trail the paths accompanied by light, but waits in the dark to lead those who wander. When you or I forget that life has been made by the will to death for others who just wanted to be free. That is when we become haunted in our skin. I do not know anything. No creed has ever satisfied me. I act one way and feel another. A lier who seeks knowledge by eating rotten apples in a garden long forgotten. My small ideas give me a decent fix. The feeling that maybe I am more, but I am hanging from my neck for the ones I betrayed with a kiss. I hope somewhere in time a version of I doesn't frail to emotions. I want to sit and stare into something wild and beautiful honestly, not for petty gaze. Look at something beautiful for the souls that live inside me. Let them see through my eyes before I burst into flames. I refuse to live off life's scraps. Every day is do this and then be happy, on and on, until you give every piece of yourself to the hell hounds that make this world mechanical. Dreams became the master. Too many words. Time to shut up and be still. Assign no meanings to the emotions I feel.