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I don't understand, Universe The things you do Is it always me? Or do you have something to do with it too? I try to understand That love isn't transactional It just is. So forgive me my ignorance Does there always have to be So much goddamned pain? And does every day essentially have to be the same With so much needless suffering With so much confusion So much doubt? If love isn't transactional Why do I always feel that I have to shout Get so angry, so enraged? Like a man that is unable to do anything Like a prisoner, trapped in a cage The centerpiece in this carnival With nothing left to say Feel Pray, or think I have a suspicion That I will never truly know you And it's times like this When I don't think I ever want to My understanding of love seems to be So diverse from yours When I don't see any rhyme or reason I'm reminded of the cold bars surrounding My prison And yet I believe that I committed no crime But to live Sometimes never knowing, never even understanding Why I

The sea stretched out far into the seemingly endless expanse, a desolate expanse of blackness and somber, calm yet pristine waves. Even as the murky protoplasmic waters seemed to move, strange pebbles stirred the pristine surface, it remained devoid of even the faintest of whispers. There was no breath of life, no gust of wind, only a cold stillness that pervaded every inch of this desolate existence on which the dark traveler stood unmoving in his shapeless dark robes and dim red stola. Above him the empty sky imitated the utter desolation where infinite possibilities reformulated themselves shone down its black light as the strange stars arose over the horizon. Before him, gargantuan edifices arose keeping the queer peace of the waters and the air; no drops cascading on its spires twisting into themselves, leaning east and west, burrowing south and north in maddening courses. Some rose beyond the threshold of the primordial ocean bereft of life, thriving with an existence