Deaucalions Fate's blog: "The Voice of a Broken Butterfly"

  The voice of a broken butterfly.

A million miles of highway stained black by the sky's tears,
and we all sit in obscurity, sliding by with fake smiles.
Why do we expect more than we have given,
and refuse to remember the kindness in the world.
Voices raised with emotion cut deep into our hearts,
words that were meant to sting emotionally bleed us to death.
They never knew that "you can do it," sounded condescending
where there was suppose to be inspiration, and encouragement.
Line after line of emotional overcontrol, words instead of fists,
why can't the world all practice the same therapy.
Instead they, we, us, everyone just stares out a rain streaked window,
wishing for the sun in a world where the darkness is permanently
etched into our souls, no escape.
Thoughts you can't explain, and only human degrees choose to listen,
the certified insane, teaching us to be complete.
Where has our love gone, relationship out of routine, unable to be broken.
I want to stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon, and scream till
the stone walls call back, "you are not alone."
I have me, always inside my own head, please let me out.
Let me go.
Let me out.
This empty space full of thoughts and impossibilities,
I can'ts where there should be I have's.
Maternal instinct stopped short by a cruel world,
causing the minds of children to become poisoned
by a dark void where there should be love.
Maybe we are not meant to love,
to feel,
to be.
Just rats running in circles in a cage,
feigning as a vast universe full of potential.
Where are our gods, where are our hearts?
I've called out before, and my voice is losing it's power
only violence holds the truth.
Only the evil make a name.
The ones who are truly good people refuse to empty their
insecurities on others, so they draw blades across soft flesh.
They are the odd ones, the castaways, the outsiders.
The ones who choose to hurt themselves instead of others.
Please father, mother, eternal beings I am calling to you,
"Help us and free us from our prisons, and vices, free us and we will change the world for the better."
Trees cut back for room for power lines,
where technology interrupts nature.
Makes so much sense, love cut back to make room for our minds to flourish,
where knowledge interrupts feeling.
My heart speaks volumes, words never spoken, only felt,
and the verses twist on the page, chaos with an unseen pattern.
The butterfly effect.
If only I had wings, to fly far above everyone to observe instead of live among the critically analytical.
Just give me wings.
I promise to fly forever.
High above politics, and greed.
Clouds shifting into the faces of all those who have tried to live and failed.
We all fail.
There is no winning a game without rules,
through the abuse ,and famine, and disease we remain hopeful.
Hopeful for what?
The end?(.)