Finding the Unfamiliar Which is to be Found

Faded is the future of the path we lead.
Forgotten  the path ,which we need.
Formidable is the foe that blocks our track.
Fight to the finish or lay on your back.

Fear and focus are a pair of eyes.
One sees none ,the other sees skies.
False fortress and fireflies.
For they shall aid when you have tried.

What we find to be familiar,
Is what is to be found.
Though finding the final path results in failure,
The found path is not wasted.

Have we found it?
What are we trying to find?
Objects, beings, space?
Frisking through what we previously found,
We finally find the answer.  

Casuality of the Surroundings

Our surroundings passes as we fly,
Left to nature we rely.
Boundaries left by memories of pain.
Nothing to do,except complain.
Existence forced through mortal grounds.
Watching as fear takes it's rounds.

Not all is lost in this body of ours.
Spirits survive by monumental towers.
Though we rise, we tend to fall.
Knowing one day, we'll stand tall.

There are no true forms one can take.
There are no true forms one can fake.
Tortured by pondering over who we are.
Invite the surroundings and your journey wont be far.

Midnight Universe

Similarities between words and tunes.
The song is made.
Differences between opinion and thoughts.
Reveals the blade.

The edge of the earth, a place for some.
Others doubting where you're from.
Visual centric minds are yet to be seen.
Advancements made through machine.

The creator has failed to make us live.
It does not depend on what he gives.
Involvement of the universe is needed in our heads.
Attainable only when sleeping in our beds.

Understanding the random thought of emotions.
Mixed adventures or curious notions.
Different patterns in the rhythmic clouds.
All related to us as a crowd!

The Weak and the Wanderer

System of donkeys made to follow by the superior flesh.

Rising above with unforeseen power, connected by a mesh.

Retaliate and you shall witness no dreams or future.

Jointly stitched by artificial sutures.

We are made to follow what they dream and desire.

Following the proper order and attire.

Creating the illusion of pointless intelligence.

The weak emerge from their emotionless pit.

A life of difficulties the wanderer faces.

Ever reckoning to end the broken system.

A life with dreams and desires of his own.

The weak points to him as a stone.

As we turn weak, our mind turns to gold.

A precious stone with value but nothing more.

We are made to believe that there is honor in following the system.

A system in which the judgment is controlled by the upper hand.

The weak are made to sit and never stand.

To dominate is not a sole purpose but a cycle.

Without the cycle, it is only a single entity.

Remove those who tighten you with invalid rules.

Explore and question those weak fools!