This is Not an Obligation

I want to start the movement;
I want to wake the generation.

Could I be any more happy?
I can't bear to lose this opportunity
to cherish life, and look back on the things I love.
After witnessing perfection at its best,
my thoughts are going haywire.
The good kind of haywire.
A needle in a haystack.
Electrical wires.
Wires, and the concept of breathing.
Driving aimlessly in the sky.
Listening to the sky.
Listening to the sky in stereo.
I write because I love.
I love because I can,
not because I feel an obligation.
Are we obligated?
Obliged on a hang glider, what to do?
And that's when I fell into the stream.
The stream of consciousness.

Past the Point of Conversation

when i woke up this morning to find you not here,
i started to think
'where did you go,
and why did you leave me here alone?'
'cause you always told me
you're always gonna be right beside me, here
so i'm asking you
just please don't go away from here
just please stay with me
and you said,
'i'm not going away'

you said you'd never leave me
you said you'd never forsake me
and you were right

Mirrors

as i look into the mirror,
the suspicious looking glass,
i think about my calling
and i see my future pass.

time and time again
i gaze into my eyes
with nothing left to find
but a lonely, scared disguise.

i tend to have my own perception
about what lies beneath my shallow reflection.
i overlook the sly deception
leaving my thoughts for recollection.

i'm searching for an answer
for this holy transformation
while my mind, spirit, and soul
wander off in my mind's elation.

i dream, i wish,
i ponder, i percieve.
i think, i ask,
i wonder, i believe.