Method To the Madness

I exist, to be,

the exeption to the rule
The compliance with resistance
The sunshine in the rain.

I persist, to see, the renewal of the old
The life within persistance
The light inside an instant
What might be hidden gold.

I breath, to feel, the shouting in the silence,
The holliness in madness
The warmth in that, that’s cold.
The sadness behind smiles,
may hide,
The meaning of the soul.
And in that which seems to hide no lies,
There may be lessons, never said or told.

I smile, to find, the smiles in other faces,
To search, for human races’ igniting factors in the folds

I live, to learn, the method in the madness,
so that in my last pages, I can tell
the instigations for the treason,
the lessons in the laughter.
The reason and rhythm, to the rhyme.

The illuminations of disasters,

and that only I, am truly mine.

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