Prose - A Constant State of Inspiration

I want you to listen
And show me your heart
I try to show you life
I try to show you art
You seem to shrug
And ignore what could be
Do you want an open mind
Or would you rather avoid me?
Is it my ego
Needing your approval?
Or is it my frustration
With your minds removal?
Every moment
Contains inspiration
As the air I breath
My life is expression
Of pain
Of darkness
Of desperation
Of nothingness
But what of you?
The one who said
You were my friend
Yet you act as if my words are dead
Where shall I exist
When my pain is rejected?
Where shall I lay
If my mind is neglected?
Let me show you
The possibilities
Pointing at doors
Of alternate realities
With the barkers standing
Alluring you with wisdom
Yet hiding the chains
Of their cultish prison
Or shall I reveal the mystery
Of the human condition
As I confess to my weaknesses
With trusting obsession
Opening my own door
For your viewing pleasure
Wondering if you will look
Or run to a delusional treasure
Pretending that you know
With no requirement of assertion
In your life
From my own peculiar vision
Yes yes yes
A constant state of inspiration
Has perfected itself
Destroying superficial conversation
Beyond mountaintops
And clouds
And stars
Entering shrouds
Of true perception
I depart this sacred altar
For my opinion of you
Has been forever altered
Because of what I know
And of what I understand
In the void that a loner must fill
Removing his life from your hand

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