Oct 29

A land of broken illusions

I could stoke the flames of hatred,
and dance among the fire.
Let the smoke cloud my vision, 
Let the great billowing clouds conceal me. 

I could dip my toes in the waters of jealousy,
and swim among the lilypads, 
Letting the envy turn me green,
And gaze upon myself, within the mirror for a while. 

I could dance in the forest.
And get high off the mountain air.
Letting myself forget, the shackles that I bear.

I'll sleep with the moss as my pillow,
The ground as my bed.
And fly far away,
on wings made of lies.