To write a poem with more than words....more than thought or breath. With more than ordinary understanding. To write a letter without a solid meaning, only passion, only fire....only depth. To produce a document to confuse the readers...but, to organize and explain your own words to yourself. To understand the power of a human...of their words...of their actions, their emotions. Are these things that can be conquered? Can they even be asked in a literal way? To see with passion, instead of eyes...to love with fire, instead of a muscle. To give everything you have to something...so much so that you don't even own your own mind. To get lost in nothing....and feel, see, barge, and experience everything. To understand confusion, and crave the knowledge you can gain from it. These are previous things I crave. Precious things, I can't quite decide if I would want to share...surely I've earned the right to be selfish in this scene? Even if not, I wouldn't expect you to understand. To understand what it means to fall freely...into...it. To know what it is....this is something I don't know. All I know is that I do feel a pulling.  I can only pray that my heart continues to feel this. I pray that more than desire strikes me when my eyes once again open. I want to believe in the things which i've written about. Which I've lived. I want to believe it, and I want to see it. I want this reality, this clarity...this destiny, I was sure had been lost. I pray to wake to it. I pray to live to it.