puzzle.

all the hopes and dreams of a child are dying, suffocating beneath the weight of the world. but who am i to underestimate the power of fate? there is no reason to the suffering on the other side of this plate, this puzzle piece- one of many, surrounding this earth as pieces of a shell. the comfort i found in our warmth has now become my hell. i'm hiding from the consequences, feeding that void that i'd made so long ago with secrets and products of my heart...and products of my shadow. see not what i say or think, but what i feel- my heart is calling out to you: but you've built up walls of steel. but who am i to underestimate the power of fate? there is no reason to the suffering and the hate that flows like an intangible river underneath all of this. referencing to the hope in my heart is like saying that God is sitting at my kitchen table. there is no evidence or proof to say that it is real, to say that it's true. i've got nothing left, or so my mind wants to believe- but the truth is i've got everything sitting right in front of... there is no reaons to the suffering underneath that beautiful skin; you are a piece of a puzzle comprised of billions of pieces. and not a single one looks like another, not a single voice rings the same as yours. hope has died and come back, who's to say that it won't come again? who am i to underestimate the powers of fate and of love? if the hope returns to the surface, perhaps that's a sign from someone above. i've got nothing left, or so my heart thinks- but the truth is this: you are standing right in front of me. and you are everything, i say, you are all that i need. this crisis of the conscious has finally brought me to my knees. it took years to get this far, only to fall back down again. i know that this is small in comparison to it all, but that doesn't stop this love i feel, my friend.

with open arms, and open eyes, i know that i can change; but for what purpose- there is no real reason to accept the plan of fate. but who am i, i ask, who am i to underestimate the powers of love? the power of hate?