Inside the infinite paradox,
Exists an outlook.
There resides a perspective within a reflection, opaque & unclear,
Absent.
It's always dying, following the intricate designs of the total psyche-
The heart of a romantic,
The soul of a wanderer,
The mind of a new generation-
Towards renewal.
A shadow of a perfectly harmonious human spirit,
Screaming for an ultimate liberation,
Traces patterns of obsession around passion,
Treads in the legitimacy of philosophy,
And meditates in the realm of a happy medium between living and being alive.
The feeling of existence,
In the symbol of a puzzle.
A grand scheme, comprised of these ideas,
Pleading for an answer;
Guidance from a higher power,
One that may or may not exist as we define it,
Or for simple acceptance;
Love, in it's purest form.
(The driving force behind our nature)
To this driving force, her persona is everything.
When all disputes are settled,
Questions answered,
Outcomes set in stone,
The heart of the romantic rebels,
Goes to war with logic,
Creates pain.
Truly, the only natural source of legitimacy we have, in the absence of happiness, or a distraction from sorrow.
Dwelling inside what cannot be rationalized,
The path appears beaten and yet so perfect and untouched.
All we could ask for lies beyond this path,
Which runs only in a circle.