A house is built for shelter and care,
Created from the Earth to bring stability into a home.
It is unwavering and sure.
...
Or is it really?
Years later,
will this house still stand?
Change is like a house,
it's foundation will crumble,
and with it the walls,
and with it the roof.
Can a home really be stable,
Created on such a basis?
Each good home falls,
and with it a family.
They will leave,
They will die.
The house will become unrecognizable.
And with it, The foundation will crumble.

Freedom is all she needs.

That tiny twirling Butterfly,
Whose wings could fly her all the way to the moon.
Gliding through the vast sky without a care.
She dances until noon,
Than disappears from sight.
Noontime mingles with the moon,
Allowing her to freely fly,
A beauty, such as herself, had once been merely a cocoon.
And before that, a caterpillar,
Wishing to be free, and sing a new tune.

Air escapes me.
My breath made short
By the evading water.
My sight, falls to the floating bubbles,
containing precious air.
My gaze follows them, wishing, wanting needing
The salty air had a time before seemed exotic and was welcomed.
Now,
It mocks me and burns at my throat.
Tangy winds are replaced
By salty fluid that invades my lungs.
My sight is blurred
as only
**darkness approaches

This heat pulsates through my veins,
rushing through my being.
A wind blows through my hair,
unable to retrieve the coolness in it's grasp.
Rather, it scorches the air instead.
A sip of fruity drink,
it's coolness washing away the heat that penetrated me.
This splash of mango re-animates a flushed cheek back to life.
This desert transitions into a tropical beach for one more moment...
and then, the heat
will rise again.

How much time has passed,
since you last spoke to me?
How much,
since I've last seen you?
The first in a long time,
that i've been able to hold a happy conversation with you,
where drama, nor yourself were completely on your mind.
How much do I need to beg,
in order to be in your life?
How much time will continue to pass,
until you realize that there's only one me,
and that no one can hurt me like you.
I wish for time to pause when you smile,
when your eyes glisten,
when life stops hating you.
But it slowly moves on,
giving you new griefs.
How much time will pass until your satisfied,
until you can truly smile once more.

Our world is filled with impermeable things,
your car will eventually break.
You will eventually grow older.
That is inevitable.
Death is inevitable, and so life is impermanent.
Our mind tricks us into believing that what lays before us will always be there.
Your friends who you trust and adore may not aways be your friends,
or if they are truly loyal,
they will one day die.
Your parents will wither with time
as the laws of nature steals those closest to you.
If our only savior is darkness,
than let sleep bring about a peaceful reality.

Why is it so unattainable?
Were you to play a piano,
it's beauty is in the melody,
not she who plays it's keys.
Were you an artist,
the beauty of the piece is created from your own hands after molding it into form.
Were you a dancer,
the beauty resides in the motions of the dance,
created from your own skills.
Were you a poet,
your pen forms the beauty word by word,
letter by letter.
So why is beauty so unattainable?
The truth is
**it is