Everything, Yet Nothing

Can't breathe, can't think, can't move.
Emotions running circles in my mind.
Don't breathe, don't think, don't move.
Such a disturbence could wake you up,
and away your angel would flee. Back
into the dream would you so often wish
to be in. A dream work that you wish
beyond all else was reality and never
again did you have to return to this place.
This place so dark and scary. This world
where pain runs wild, making all who feel
suffer for all eternity. From this shattered
plane I retreat, seeking the area of my
dreams. Where the angel sits, waiting
for the return of the broken heart. Broken,
and crippled the poor soul makes it's way
to the sweet abyss. Falling down, dragging
itself slowly, painfully to it's goal. It's hope,
it's home. Looking up to the sky, it spots
the angel descending from on high. Land
so gentle the angel feet softly touch the
ground. Wings spread wide to full extend,
such grace a smile upon the angel's face.
Looking deep into it's eyes, the angel sees
the pain in which the poor soul has lived.
Eyes so soft yet filled with fire, that look
deep down into the poor soul. Finding all
that's wished to hide, pulling back no place
to run. Such fear to open up to someone
so perfect. A soul that is to pure to be
true. A soul that makes the grey skies turn
a blue that brings a tear to the eye. Same
blue that graces the eyes which look so
deep down into the soul. So deep it sends
shivers all along the skin. Making it so hard
to breathe. Making it so hard to think.
Making it so hard to move. Feelings that
can not be comperhended. No words that
can be explained. Sensations that will hide
in the memories of the poor soul for all
eternity. The memories that gets the soul
past everyday. Memories of a joy that
can turn away every pain. Memories that
bring a smile to the soul even when it
suffers so in the reality of lonliness and
pain. So sweet a though is this, of an
angel that brings the sunshine onto a
soul that knew nothing but darkness.
Warmth that gives the soul a glow a
joy, a life, a home. Something to long
for as the time passes by. Til the angel
can rejoin the life of the poor soul down
in its hole. Til the poor soul is dragged
away kicking and screaming all the way.
Til the smile is once again put onto the
poor souls face while it stares into the
eyes the look so deep down into it. This
kind of life is a hard one to live. Being
torn from the thing you love so. Not
allowed to spend every minute, every
second with the thing that makes life
worth living. Not allowed to see the
smile, the face, the eyes of the thing
you love more then life itself. Not
allowed to touch, to feel, to hold close
the joy in your life, to cling to it when
you are affraid. To hide your eyes in
it's chest when you can't be brave. To
cry on it's shoulder when the world has
done you wrong. To smile and laugh at
the jokes it may say. To live the life
that you wish you could live, by the side
of the thing that you love so much. By
the thing that you think of when you
wake. The thing you think of when you
sleep. The thing you think of every time
your mind realizes it is even thinking.
Everything is what you think, yet there
is nothing to be thought. Just pointless
circles that have no end. Of course this
is how it was meant to be. Since what
since does it make to be able to think
of such a thing that you love so true,
and clear in your mind the feelings
that it makes you feel. The feelings
no words can describe. So it makes
logic true, when everything and nothing
rule the mind of one who thinks of such
things. A blessing is this to the one who
is given the gift of such a feeling. For
few will ever know everything and yet
nothing. Illogical, yet so logically sound
that not even the wises lawyer in the
land could argue that point. No jury to
give a vertic. No judge to finalizes the
ruling. Not even a court room for this
case to be tried. Insanity runs wild in
the mind of the one who thinks of such
things. Yet the thinker does not mind at
all for it brings them joy beyond all else.
There is none better then this feeling of
complete chaos. Few have found a name
for it but here I tell you today that it is
simple to be seen. All know the word that
discribes the depiction that has been given.
Although few will ever truely feel the same
as has been written. Some do not even
believe that such a thing could ever exist.
Since in it's natural state it is fragile, soft,
sweet, and innocent. Such a thing that
can be broken without a warning, by the
slightest slide of the hand. What is it that
I speak of? What is it that this all has been
about? Well it's simple don't you see, the
thing I speak of is the one thing all seek.
The thing I speak of is and has always will
be love. Love so true it can never destoried.