poetry

what comes next…

thirty-three trips around that sun. and i’ve never chased that moon. yet i’ve stood in it’s mystifying light. praying within screams, as i feasted with the beasts. not holding my breath for a so called hero of flesh and bones. because the magic i hold, is stronger and more beautiful than any crumbling temple. and i have no need for promises, only actions beyond useless words. that could fail, just as easy as mine… but it doesn’t matter what happens before, although in the now… you’ll find what comes next, will truly define everything. where fighting dogs die, and cowards cross those lines. when fear becomes strength, and wisdom teaches you how to live without thinking. for you can have all the knowledge you’ll ever need in your twenties… just to realize how fucking stupid you are a decade later. as time will surely challenge your heart and soul, for the harm without harmony within your mind. will leave you just as dead as the yesterdays, too many try to live in.
-joshua ryan stewart

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