To Her Highness

Shoutout to Her Highness,

   How sweet it is,
                         To witness 
                          To linger around
   Her Highness,

   All it really takes is, 
                            Just a couple of drinks
                             To reach
   Her Highness,

  The last couple of weeks have been about,

                                       Downs             
          The             and              of various stuff,
                    ups 


 Stay up all night, feel down all day,
 While others get up and make hay,
 While the sun still shines,
-
Ah! Here comes that familiar pain,
Of being idle,
Ironically enough, I feel too busy to talk about it.
-
Be honest,
The only things that wet the barren state of mind,
Are the raindrops of what I dream the future holds,
-
These dreamdrops, 
                           Sometimes it rains like it does in Colchis,
So much that it gushes from my eyes, I can't hold it.
                           Sometimes it becomes a thing to yearn.
So much that not a single flower blooms in my face.
-
But,
  none of the ups in life are on par with the way I taste,
                                                                                  Her Highness,
However,
   none of the downs in me feel as bad as the way I feel 
                                                                                   Her Lowness,

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Futile

With all the lights coming at him,
He needs the plain darkness,
In a life full of harness,
It's hard to stop and look up,
And think the ultimate of questions,
But once thought,
It ascends him from Earth,
Up above the clouds,
Takes him away from near,
Shows the futility of almost everything,
Gives him reasons to die,
Takes the life's Old Lie,
From then on, like God's way of defining;

<<whether you like it or not>>

Leave the darkness,
Come unhappiness onto stage,
He forgets sublunar doubts,
Becomes a ghost in a freak show,
Could've been the master,
To whom everyone'd take a bow
For that he is the freakiest,
Had he been noticed.
Once he feels the fear,
Of falling off,
He begs to feel the Earth,
Under his feet, again
Without noticing that
His body is begone.
The win of a loser.
The winner that loses all.


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