April 21, 2010
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I know a place where we can go
Where napalm and fire only exist in the sun
Untraceable, a blind spot of divinity
Exclusive to your own, others cannot see
The placid palm trees nor the pool of glass beneath
A panorama painted only by dulled irises
Upon your mind, the barren blank canvas
There we can remain, commitment the final price
Yet you insist on chaos every moment you rise
If only you could see the unimaginable beauty
Neither of skill nor artistry
But of your own constitution
Will realization greet you of your creations worth?
Pandora’s box was in reality a gift in disguise

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