all the land,
is our land
and ours to roam.
all the water,
is our water
and ours to swim.
all the air
is our air
and ours to fly.
the freedom yet is subdued
thanks to our own dislute
need for being cynical.
in search of warmth,
we forget our seed.
we make our selves weeds,
and forget that we are all
born to breath free
and see earth and life
as one in union- as only
we the infinty can be.
our expression is greater
than our own rebellion
against ourselves.
from the rebellion we grow
in taste of our own ways
and lose the waste pounds
to understand that we are profound.
worlds talk of a tale-
the moon is something far away,
refelcting sun's rays.
the seas reflect the clouds,
who fly high,spirit riders
being our lives.
mortality is lost when
sense of reality is found.
what reality is what we take
it to be.and if we think we
are free,we can see that
we are free.from inside
the world is beautiful,
from inside the world is cute,
outside the world is ugly,
outside the world is losing its face.
from inside the face doesn't matter,
but the beauty does,
the beauty of what we reflect
is sown and shown in our eyes.
what we preach to ourselves
are the only ones which will
reach us.the search for infinty
goes on.in a mirror,
where relections are sojourn,
our identity is not with the mirror,
but what we refelct-the image
less infinity.for the sake of good
or no good,but for the sake
of truth,life lives on.
