sing me a story

i will tell you a story

when you're older

of a time when things were simple

and when i tell you this story

when you're older

you may not remember how simple things really were

you see

it's the story you'll hear

when you're older

that you remember as a hidden and dark

cold and soiled time

the words of the story that i will tell you

when you're older

will be transposed 

by your recollections

a half step down

in a completely different clef 

and depending on when you're ready to hear the story i will tell you

when you're older

you may actually read the music in its appropriate form

the song may be able to continue without alterations

but 

for now

i shall continue to read as you continue to write

the chosen ones

dangerous ties of insecurity bind the world in terror

the desire to darken inner light

and destroy every last shred of self compassion

bellow in the acoustic halls of the mind

stop the voices

calm them down

shut them up

make them stop

take this poison and free yourself

you can't

you can't

you can't

as you stand

alone

naked in a field of humiliation

you will most likely do what is asked of you

and you will become

like

them

only the chosen ones are able to disrupt the signal

only the chosen ones can fight

only the chosen ones can wake those

still paralyzed by desperation

so know this

when a chosen one comes to you 

and wakes you

go with them

for you are now chosen

and you will fight

and you will choose another to wake

and continue the cycle

tea

surrounded by the splendor of the warmth of the morning sun

evoking passion

the wind passes by with not a care to be had

sober

not drunk off retribution

my mind plays no tricks

my eyes do not deceive

nirvana floats my soul

deep

passionate

sensual kisses are to be had

and in my current state of arousal

i welcome them

different notes from the same entity elevate the trance

breathing is steady

and deep

a cool relax overtakes any notions of skepticism

and the mind 

is 

empty

the rhythm of the ritual is conducted without reference

the spirit just knows

after so many lifetimes of practice

harmony is achieved

drink of mysticism and render yourself open to otherworldly possibilities

experience the other side of another side of yourself

subject to change

filling out the silence with screaming in my head

reminders to take out the trash are littered all over the yard

the beginnings i crave are simple to attain

just don't poison the well

i'm not a glutton for punishment because i know my place

i simply indulge in unwashed fantasies of the complications of others

nothing can be fixed because nothing is broken

it just doesn't suit anymore

for all practical purposes there was learning that was accomplished

and a somewhat strange song was heard

i lift myself up to the possibility that the deterrents were merely that

little persecutions and stereotypes with no business buzzing around my temples

focus

see the real desire

grandiose isms are tossed around in defense of purpose

but they are not that miraculous

a shroud of anxiety cloaks righteousness in invisibility

smothers it until the perversion is so unrecognizable from that of its original self

that we are attracted to the possibility

that maybe 

this time