If progress meant evolution
Which was the resurgence
Of a previous adaptation
Since dormant but readopted,
Would you deny it & shun it?
If after some period
The same was once again true
For this only recent change,
Would you embrace it & transform?
Willing to take flight,
Willing to cocoon?
Willing to immerse,
Willing to emerge?
By the same notion,
If the divergence required
Was new or exotic,
Would you welcome something extraordinary?
Would you accept & learn from your failures
And share in the fortune of your successes?
Would you help others to grow?
Will you sicken to septic & go toxic
Feeding from discarded wastes
As like ******* overgrowth?

It's a funhouse of smoke and mirrors,
Where the unnatural angles & fumes
Have clearly affected their proprietors.
It's an old-timey, ****** circus;
The performing artists are mismanaged
By ringleaders who may be animals.
It's a rigged boardwalk game;
The hoop's too small or pegs too thick,
Baskets too tight or ***** too corpulent.
You can hit it square on,
Swing the hammer with a force sufficient,
But the bell hasn't been ringing.
Grab a hotdog,
Order a slice,
Get your popcorn & crackerjacks,
Your cotton candy & cream iced.
That sugar is a rush,
Like laffy taffy freebased off of a fish which is Swedish.
Get in your distractions,
Cause I don't forsee you winning.

A fragile glass of reflection,
I stand still watching it echo.
It shows a face being allegro.
He knows our presense very well,
That we have inevitable connection.

How could my face look?
Ohh! Such a innocent book.
Clean eyes, eye brows are high,
A gentle surface of beauty,
Is the heart express such purity?

Yet still, the mirror is a lie
How could you look inside?
On the truth hidden from our eye,
The gateway to the soul such divine,
Only to be lost in a hollow cry.

When my body sleep for eternity
Who will see my body,
Burning slowly, turning to ashes
While their memories of me flashes
Not everyone could be there for me
But I know for sure, there is my family
Ohh! How could they much endure?
When i'm in a state that can't be cured.
In my darkest time, their presense is enough
I'll be watching them because life is tough.
They sitting beside me talking to my tree
I can't talk back because i'm now free.

A pulse of darkness sleeping within,
Beyond the light, it's secret twin.
He who's sleeping all this time,
Awakes now, rising in his prime.
A shadow with horns, humming along,
So gentle, yet why does it feel wrong?
An aura so ominous it gives shivers,
So strong that even light withers.

It's the demon inside me, shrieking!
I can feel it rising, giving me power.
My heart is charging, it's striving!
The light is losing, it got devoured!
Those virtuous moments all forgotten,
In a single pump of the devil's deceit.
Look how your reality begins to rotten,
This is what it wants, evil is in heat.

A reflection, I saw my eye so beautiful
That eye of pure deception, how powerful.
I have absolute freedom, this is my peak,
Is this really the world? I see it so weak.
There's so many pawns in the game,
How exciting! I'll burn them all into flames!

How beautiful can it be?
The chaos of oddyssey,
That I thought was a misery,
Turns out to end in serenity.
When It all started within me,
To where I thought I was free.

A silhouette inside me who brings bliss.
It whispered saying, "join me in the abyss."
What harm can it do, so I agree,
It's fun and beautiful, like a fantasy.
I wish this could not end,
"It won't" said the silhouette friend.
Suddenly, my reality, it's burning!
As if my life is decending.

Someone save me, please!
My reality is not at ease,
I'm stuck at this disease.
Help is what I seize,
Look, i'm down to my knees,
Begging to exceed.

Is my shadow talking to me?
He brings a monster so scary.
It attack and demanded,
My comfort and joy, I handed,
It smiled and stop, he finally fade.
Why such sacrifice must be made?
The monster left me in peace,
Giving me life that I please.

How beautiful can it be?
So this is what they call reality.
A journey that you must see,
Where you practice vulnerability.
Embracing your tranquility,
The true path of serenity.

When one self-medicates,
Sometimes they grab the nostrum
Rather than the cataplasm.
Trying to clean the well, they mistake belladonna for myristica.
Perhaps it was the region or the season,
Maybe the water table atop which they were building.
Were it a town,
Perhaps its citizen lacked hygiene
Or had no care to maintain things.
Maybe they sparsely talked things over
And thought little of one another.
Of the many circumstances,
It could've been the building materials
Or the architects.
The dictates we lay out
For ourselves and those around us
Rarely are truly followed
In the case of relations between each other,
And typically less so
In the case of the larger world.