At first, the world is beautiful:
Hope in starlight, blue in birds
A dance with dates, with space gone by:
A perfect waltz in time.

And then, the world is wearable
Like raincoats on a cloudy day,
Expecting at any moment
For those hopes to crash on down.

When it goes, the world is deafening:
A thunderous new symphony
A satellite above your faith,
Exploding in the sky.

!

At first, the pain is bendable:
A ocean in your sturdy palm,
The lines that means the future
Holds you rapt inside its joy.

And then, the pain is darkening,
Falling through your open lips,
Twisting in a heartbeat
What you thought was livening.

When it heals, the pain is comforting,
Drawing out the open wounds,
Closing up with poetry
All your bitter, lonely nights.

;

At first, love is a simple thing:
Never lost and always gained,
Found about your glistening eyes,
Swept away in smiles.

And then, love is a ragged loss,
Stamped into the dusty ground
With parched insides and broken hearts,
Smoldering from the fire.

When it leaves, love is a masterpiece,
Whatever hoped means life goes on;
Words surrounding faithlessness,
Trust supressing lies.

(

At first, life is a laughing game:
Complete with movement in the sound:
A rainfall of the sweetest days,
That washes through the hurt.

And then, life is a saddened art,
Like emptiness onto your heart,
Spilled onto your memories:
Like loneliness across the years,
When it ends, life is a guarantee
Once lived, once loved, once hurt:
The world, in pain or joyful taste,
Will sweep into another love.

)