Reflective Rants

A long awaited badinage finally meets its end, as forced strains of music flood the night. Insignificant pearls of white light shine down upon his face; Concealing yet revealing. Deafening whispers of anguish, begging to be heard plague the mind of the guilty. As ominously red drops stain the downy white snow Terrifying yet fascinating. A hand raises in triumph, as shrieks of crazed laughter pierce the air. Because, how can one stay sane? When one has done the unthinkable.

Pretty faces and hollow minds, Roaring seas and timid tides. The world was created in black and white, With the thought of grey lost into the night. And as we ponder, as we judge; We pray for the strength to play with lives. Of the guilty, and of the innocent. But the distinction hasn't truly ever mattered. Intricate lies and delicate trickery, Honest pleas and genuine tears. As virulence and retribution collide With love and forgiveness. We slowly begin to wonder; Has the distinction truly ever mattered?

And as her world came crashing down, she closed her eyes to paint. But the paintbrush was a razor; The canvas, her skin. While red slashes drew themselves across her soul. All she felt, was a surge of relief. As she created her dark masterpiece. 

Floundering in a world filled with lies and deceit where one doesn't know what to believe. A place where thinking for yourself is considered taboo. Where superstition is perpetually ascendant to logic. And those who shun convention, who fight the system are taught to be considered mavericks whose hearts brim with bitter resentment. When you're among those few, you strive to fit into the mold society  has created for you by cowering behind masks, in constant search of people like you who remain insistent in their refusal to bare their souls fearing the myriad ramifications. But then once in a blue moon, you find that someone who you can always count on. Someone who can finally relate. And your guilt ridden conscience can finally be laid to rest, for you know that you are not alone.