Are you a burnt little matchstick?
Struck against scraping sandpaper
Till you shine bright enough to be a star,
But the joy of being enough is robbed by the end, without going far.
Burnt, crippled, broken, and used,
Now showing no more potential nor promise,
You are thrown away by the world,
Tossed in a pile without a thought,
The light you brought, they forgot,
So they have simply left you to rot.
-Maya Desdemona
I was out on a stroll,
Now usual, I suppose,
Yet today I found,
Another most curious view.
It was high up,
A rather peculiar looking cloud,
And it took looking twice,
For my mind to make a discernable shape.
In all its abstract beauty,
I could see a bird
Flying out of a cloud of smoke
At least, that is what I perceived.
Twenty minutes later,
Is when my curious sight
Comes to the corner of my eye.
I noticed that a bird was struck down.
It was not a natural death,
Far from it, really,
A few stray cats in the locality
Had caught it while hunting.
And upon looking at its dismembered corpse,
Hanging from a kitten's mouth,
I could only feel
That I had seen that bird before.
– Maya Desdemona
It all starts with a thought.
Abundant yet never truly provocative.
It remains, neither developing nor dying,
And simply exists.
However, it never ends there.
That is only the beginning of this tale.
This half-baked thought, desperate to survive.
Struggles to grow.
It festers, clinging to the mind like a parasite.
It only continues
To grow and grow,
Till it can be avoided no more.
And curiosity,
Like that of a small child,
Envelopes you as you see it in a new light.
Glories of wars to behold
And stories untold
Enraptures even the bold,
Incomparable to gold.
And in that wonder you find,
The words to describe it
Seem to just fall like leaves in autumn
Right out of your mouth.
In that moment,
The mind runs faster than the speed
Of both hand and sound,
Thrown out from the consciousness
Before disease infects it.
Thoughts that plague,
Thoughts that harm
And thoughts that are neither profound
Nor permissive
Reside in the same mind,
Like an incurable illness.
Yet this mind will continue
To forever create and destroy,
To discover and explore,
Till the Light and Life of existence
Are no more.
– Maya Desdemona
Luminousis 