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Fly, fly, strange feeling
That itching heart that led me to you
Wrought of blood, forged of soul
No words to express, like a flower blossoming
spring greens, winter whites, hearts of red
Like a summer breeze, it warms the soul
not too hot, but not too cold. And with
thy love, I could live forever,
for this, not even death could conquer
They say love is blind, but why
does it need to be? Be it not enough
to have beauty, withs, and happiness?
Or must I for you the heavens
buy, in order to show my love? If it were that a star was
worth as much as you, I would
buy you ten. But the problem is,
there are not enough stars in the sky
Just to equal the brightness of thy smile. So here,
I ask of you, for a token of thy
love, no mere charm, no harsh rebuff
give me that wh ich I ask, for I
shall give unto you that which I can...
the most precious of gifts, the depths
of love... Unto you, I give my heart
Coal Heart
Thou wouldst drift in on a winter morning
Aimlessly drifting, through field and moore, past
Village and City, rich and poor, like a death bell ringing
And through bitter storms, speaking of thy cast
For from thee, a kiss doth float upon the breeze.
Thy inner spirit cannot deny, for
These twistings and turnings, a sign of unease
Found only within, nie without, no mere myth
For these are the trappings of love
Wrapped to fit a heart of coal, they
Cannot escape, no sign, no word, not even the feather of a dove.
I swear it, thy heart is dark, even by day
When thou professed they love, you meant it
as naught more than a cruel lance of evil wit.
Illusions
Look around you. You see the world, you hear it, you smell it, you feel it, you even taste it. But do your senses tell you the truth? Is seeing really believing? No. The world as we know it is merely an illusion interpreted by out brains. Our brain tells us what we see, what we feel, not our senses. Our brain tells us snow is white, lemons are sour, and metal is cold, hard, and shiny. Our brains tell us everything, and we listen.
The problem is our brains. Our eyes see the truth, but our brains cannot interpret it, so we see less. Our eyes see details we do not, as evidenced by hypnotherapy, which allows us to remember details our eyes saw, but our brains never processed. When we look at an optical illusion, our eyes see it the way it was made, but our brain assumes the eyes are wrong, and corrects the image. This, in turn, creates the illusion that we "see."
Every day, as we move about our lives, we choose to let our brain interpret things differently. We see colors, but colors are nothing but light. To be more specific, all we see is a collection of waves. Long waves, short waves... they all combine to create the illusion of sight. Likewise, everything we hear is comprised of waves... there are no sounds, no noises. The world has no music, singing, or talking. Only the waves we interpret as such.
So, knowing that our entire lives are made of illusion, the illusion of happiness, the illusion of sadness... the illusions of depth and width, the illusion of color... the illusion of conformity and the illusion of uniqueness
The world is a collection of illusions, custom fit for the human brain. Why do we see things the way we do? Why does everything taste like chicken? Who is to say we see reality, and not a trick? We cannot answer these questions simply, they are the questions that have baffled the greatest philosophers of all time. Why are we here? What does it mean? Why do we see what we see? Nobody knows the real answer to these questions, but what do YOU think?
