Shaping Reality In Cycles

he is lying with the taste of deceipt. beating down the door of relevance. charging like a nations army to the liberation of a bleeding country. slowly realizing metaphors cloaked in a pale glimmer of nature. the world around is changing. trying to decipher the the ruins of self hatred he discovers his own. misconstued thoughts lie on the ground like wounded infantry. walking amongst these ruins he feels a familiar realm. looking accross the mountains of peculiar faces, he glares into the sun. realizing it is not as bright as first perceived. still walking, kicking oddly shaped stones. watching them snowball into a bigger more impacting being. feeling much smaller now. coming to accept there is no keeper. tired now. separated from ones body. one with his surroundings again. floating closer to the goal. wings of friends lifting to the horizon. he knows this place all to well. no cares for what he knows is to come. only to accept what happens in cycles. as expected, the wings are cut. blade through soul. no connections left. falling slowly to the ground facing up. holding an open hand out as if a beggar. knowing the fate of his so called relevance to this realm. knowing it can be as easily quenched as a childs fire. landing softly. asleep. dreaming of reality. conciousness. perception. he is lying with the taste of deceipt. beating down the door of relevance. charging like a nations army to the liberation of a bleeding country.....