Blackout Blinds
The mind can make you; mind can break you;
mind can pull you under.
We fabricate these scenarios in our minds
but forget that we are looking at the world through blackout blinds.
Imagine a painter, painting scary paintings then forgetting,
letting his creations install fear in him. A scary setting
is not this painter getting scared of something he created;
No, it's the fact that even though the fear he, too, created,
he let it govern him and let it get inside his head.
The mind can make you; mind can break you; poison you with lead.
By judging thoughts we are inviting them into our minds,
forgetting that we're looking at the world through blackout blinds.
Morning Sun and Midnight Moon
Thought I took the wrong turn at the crossroads when I wrote to you.
I kept telling myself that you loved me, hoping it was true.
The scary thing about addiction is you never know.
I was certain this time it'd be different, but it wasn't though.
We grew much closer and much faster in no time at all,
and knowing this, it was inevitable I would fall
for your demeanours, getting flung back into vicious cycles.
I didn't care though; You were always my beloved cycle,
which I recycled and revisited so many times.
A thousand poems were surely written and ten thousand rhymes.
Guess I'm an expert now on loving and losing you.
My love is unconditional, which means that I choose you
over the circumstances, what you do or what life brings.
Next time around, when at the crossroads, I will spread my wings
and I'll ascend way up to heaven and beyond its walls.
A broken wing and a broken heart means that a bird falls,
but with an inner strength that dwells beneath its skeleton,
it can remain in flight; This energy is feminine,
but deep inside of all it's waiting to be tapped into.
Until you try this for yourself, this will be all taboo.
I offer this: Go prove me right and thank me not for this.
I'm just a messenger; The message is that love exists
inside of you; inside of me; inside of everyone.
This love can never be extinguished, like the morning sun.
It may surrender to the night, but back it will be soon.
This love's the merging of the morning sun and midnight moon.
Theatre
Backstage, even when the crowd leaves,
there's an actor in the theatre that continues to believe
he's his character and thinks he must go on playing his role.
Even the make-up room mirror can't reflect his poor soul,
for he is so lost in illusions that seem real inside his mental,
and he always wears his outfit, even though it's just a rental.
Clouded is his soul but his heart shines through the persona.
Is the theatre responsible for this actor's coma?
Much Love,
Luka