Aura Pinging

Pick a color,

       in your dreams,

While

          Forgetting all,

Your life means,

Project it out word,

         Like a flowing stream,

Let the color go,

As far as possible,

                  

           Now Create,

     A wave,

              And absorb its energy,

            Collapsing inward,

          To ones singularity,

             rinse and repeat,

                  Like breathing,

              To discover,

                        Your Limiting,

          Orbital fluctuations.

     Before you,

          Dive in,

        To become,

              the color.

   Focus.....

Project outward,

     And Absorb the room,

             Feel the impurities,

                           And Disturbances

     Fulxuate

          And clense,

                    The area.

          

     Make the room,

                       Your own,

Before smashing the ground,

                 And walls,

      To Discover,

                   The hidden ones..    

        

Poison

There is nothing,

            More beautiful,

    Then infecting someone,

                With Love.

Why are we here?

         We all live,
   So that we may understand,
                       emotions,
                  beyond our senses.

Sensationalize This

  To report,
          is a balance,

        Between
                What is Right,
 and what
        is profitable,

                      For any story,
          Becomes its own,
                      comedy,
                             or a tragedy.

                        However,
            In this age of,
                          twitter,
                  bloggers,
                             and the 24 hour news cycle,

               They all compete,
                                   for a readerships,
                       
                                Relentless...................Appetite,


                                And
                                    The natural development,
                              Of these,
                    poetic stories,
           
                         is  endlessly butchered,
                             
                             By a motivated group,
                   of opinionated journalists,
                                  who will sensationalize,
                                              Everything to make a living.
                                               
                         

This Cup is just Half

There's a 50/50,
               Percent chance,

      To inspire,
                   or offend,
  To help,
           Or to hurt,
       To love,
                 Or to hate,

   In every
            word,
       Spoken,
                or written,

Expressed by,
                   Oneself,

             

Destroy

    Solders,
            are the ones,
      who undo,
               gods work.