ShadowCrow

Long, long ago was a boy who lived inside his head,
It was a world of countless tales, a million trinkets, half-sung songs
and a fire of a thousand hued flames to keep the world away
For when he stepped into the world, he missed the warmth and comfort of it
and often fled from the shades of life to its embrace

I wonder if I could say one thing to that lonely child who lived inside his head today,
What lesson could I teach?

The world is what is known, what is unknown, and what is believed

Philosophy is pointless
Many important things have no point

Potential is a thing that is unknown
but is believed
Thus it is the world
until it is known not to be

You think your desert safe
for there is no one else there
but the oasis holds your reflection
and that demon awaits

Those that love you fear for you
and those that fear you
will hate you
even if you fear for them

These are the things that were unknown that I now know or believe

But there is one thing that is true

There is a profound emptiness
in measuring
the length and width
of a beautiful thought