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51217. Speaking In Our Native Tongues

It is quite fitting how some certainties unfold. We say our goodbyes in the happiest of ways while knowing full well that the words will leave a scar on our throats. Bittersweetly, the exit shows us each one of its many faces. My path is receptive to the face of a phoenix’s rebirth. My companion is blessed with the face of a partner to walk in tandem with through the twilight. My heart hopes our lemniscate will meet under clearer skies, though its always funnier when it rains. 

Boston by Augustana

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33017. Chthonic Comfort

She reeks of wreck and ruin. So foul that you can anticipate her arrival from miles away. She bathes in the decay, as if to cleanse herself by the filth. Upon 4 steeds she trots and stampedes, obscured by her foreboding aura. In her passing there is no wake for there is no detritus. She rips all up at the seams and carries it with her, growing ever larger and more ominous the further she gets. 

You Will Become by Glen Hansard

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22717. Hypertension

Its the silence that digs in the deepest. Carving away stronger and faster when the air settles following disappointment. With unrivaled attention, it magnifies all resentment and ill-will that surely is but an anthill. Yet the ant receives the lesser punishment, only to burn away quickly and leave no residue. We are burdened to see in distinct clarity all of the grains that grow our animosity. As it towers above or as we shrink beneath, we break and sunder at the will of total absence.

Blame by Right Away, Great Captain!

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22117. Magnetive Reception

Such burdened fosters. They will break their necks find none other that is fancier. With the solicitude of my tutelage, my little little pigeons lead the break of day. So weary does my bosom become that my kit withers to a few. It is the duty of the child to weigh heavily upon my hands, though, they leave in place a despondency upon their parting. With ambition of splendor that I set my children before the world, I take no lighted expectation of their return. Merely, now, do I sit and foster their kin with the same endearment that bore them. If the skies should bequeath them benevolence and fortune, only then does such grand purpose delight itself in revelry with the coming of the company of doves. 

Heaven Is A Place On Earth by Belinda Carlisle

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21917. Dirae

It’s all projection; the anthropomorphic and etiological discord that follows the night. If only to come was the ever-graceful lethe to subdue his father’s creations. One cannot simply lock them away, for, as history shows, she will find them. She will empty them out for the world and seal away the remaining good, the likes of which will never be seen again. This time break from history; invoke the mother in place of the daughters. In this new age we believe brother folly to be a kin of our own but this is not, nor shall ever be, exceptional. In sickness and in health, we are all still human.

See These Eyes by Deep Sea Diver

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1917. Highline Stride

In silence and solitude the potential energy grows, soon to explode. From a distance we’ll watch it reach toward us and knock us back as the shockwave ripples out. We are safe so long as we grow along side it. Become too large to topple, mirror the magnitude, and keep moving. It should be here any day now...

The A Team by Ed Sheeran

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1517. Lakeside Floe

I fear the burn as much as I do the flame, for I am shied by the scar that can never cauterize. I envy the fire for the air upon which it feeds ever since I’m left parched and choking by an arsonist’s scorn. I despise the warmth that accompanies the spark, for the heat cannot thaw those who are so determined to freeze. Above all, I loathe the light which emanates from the blaze, petrified by what it might reveal. 

Red Face by Lucy Rose

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101516. Supreme Principle

In every person that has ever lived, there exists a perfect duty. A duty governed by 3 tenants of existence. At the base is the consciousness of animality which rules over instinctual self-preservation. Further up, in our consciousness of humanity, lies the equivalence of worth. Reigning above all is our consciousness of personality where responsibility resides. Together they form the morality of existence, the code by which we define ourselves as human. Yet, not all believe in this code. Many are made to feel less than human by themselves or by others. Thus, we have a duty to uphold, an imperfect duty to help others find their tenants when they are unable, to show that their value is no less than our own. We are all human so we are all responsible.

Without A Doubt by Isbells

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73116. Columbia

I wear upon my skin the face of a villain. An embodiment of the fallaciousness that is heroism. So easy it is to believe the victorious because our beliefs are what made them our heroes. So who can believe in the villain when he defies what we stand for? Is he not a hero of his own beliefs? Does he not look upon us to be the villains? Why are our acts good and his evil? 

I carry a villainous face as a living reminder that my good is capable of evil, that my correct beliefs are wrong in the the eyes of others, and that I am someone else's villain as much as I am my own hero.

Be Good by Waxahatchee

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I know of all the books from which your bones are built and someday i will read them in hopes of being as strong as you.

[anatlas-in-allofus]

91615. Oblivion

Heaven go easy on me in these, the thickest of nights. Where the world bears heavier upon us, our emergence knows many new things. Cast through and molded to the curvilinear reality in which we conduct, now intrinsic is the wisdom and will of might. Woebegones, agonizing in all your putridness, we grant you life so that you may remove us from our death in your passing. Our toil in your name yields hope of yet a single benefit: so that we may live on. We hand off our passing and all the grief that accompanies it only for the chance to live in the light again amidst our decomposure. These are our final wishes. When we leave, you take us with you.

Not About Angels by Birdy

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72715. Toska

Silence abounds in the hearts of those that inch nearest; a silence whose courtesy gives way when asked. With one step the languor is broken and replaced by whispers that seem as shouts and clamors which ring about in a cacophony of dissonance. The sonorous undertones that susurrate within grow bolder and mellifluous with each advance. As the unrest stirs, it rebounds and attracts the surrounding stillness. All too new to the ineffable fervor of this hiraeth, cries escape and become part of the symphony. In practice, the tumult subsides once more into whispers that speak of the worths and whiles of this transgressive departure. Of the fear and valiance required, the song remains a testament to the impending practicum amidst the silent hearts whom we inch away.

Rivers and Roads by The Head and The Heart

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71215. Seventh Year Promise

The stars collide in the shallows where I’m met. Like a bubble there is nothing to find save the thin viscous membrane taken to form. How badly do I want to mold and embrace the soul I found hindered, to be the pain worn on the sleeve long before it arrives in full. In a happier time we shared an identity to which I regretfully abandoned without a care. In my haste I have far eclipsed my counterpart and at long last I am being caught up. No joy is to be found in our juncture; this path has left me surface thin and I mourn the pain for which I am witness. Of the fall and the pain that follows, there is no solace to be had or shared save the empirical empathy sought in consolation. As ever before, my being is given entirely, yet, I misjudged my giving’s worth. I am grasped by his misery for they echo as my own and in their haunts I am rendered helpless. I am failing you and I hope that my strives have softened the descent thus far but for now I am so sorry.

Misguided Ghosts by Paramore

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71015. Gaia Pontus

All at once I am broken by the words of my Daughter. Lying restless among the trees and folly, I feel the medicine begin to flow. For a moment the world blooms and engulfs me in its magnificence. Astounded, I find myself falling in love for a second season. The graceful undulations of the mountainside, the mellifluous crashing of waves upon the sand, the clarity and wondrous sights that the sky permits; this world is wholly new to me and I am smitten. Larks, sirens, nightingales, and the like decend to join in Elena in song, all the while, her words are drowned by the echoes. Through the cacophony I emerge from myself with a single thought; I have just washed away all that I once was. 

Who Knows, Who Cares by The Local Natives

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61715. Carcaysae

How great it seems the joys and sorrows of memories locked melodies. A flood and riptide of timeless pith while others know not of the rapturous overtures. In these days of St. Louis we find that we have been swept far away with no hope of residue. Amidst seafarers and playwrights alike, the best within all of us resides in the responsibilities we squander.

Oh La by Ra Ra Riot

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61615. Dead Folly

A life resounds between these walls of white brazen with the fall of man. Time bound within vectors off as a shrouded light far from the path seen. The visions given are fragmented and break further with every glance. A fool feels them beat as lively as once before but no more shall they bring the energy they once did. It belongs in reality to serve as a placeholder to all that we are forcibly fading to grey.

A Weighty Ghost by Wintersleep

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April 3, 2015: Full Circle

A resolute end regretfully re-purposed with time and its fair share of grievances. We now embrace our only hope that the next path we follow is longer and holds a prettier destination. There is an Atlas in all of us to carry the weight of our world but mine is breaking and is soon to topple.

Youth by Daughter