Gorgeous Catastrophe

Life is magic, tragic, made of extremes and lovely dark things
a gorgeous catastrophe
woven one day at a time.

I wonder why it is

that tragedy tells so well in poetic digressions

why the most painful of lessons

show the most beautiful of transgressions.

Life is calamity, a gorgeous catastrophe

the paradise of drowning in someone elses eyes
where it is more the pain than the gain
which reminds us we are alive
because from that there is no place to hide.

The journey makes us, creates us, pushes us over the edge.

That beautiful glorious edge

between sanity and irrationality

where our demons fly free to play with fire

and lay with our angels.

Life is living on the line

between paradise and hell

never quite sure upon which side we stand

knowing only that eventually, somewhere we must land.

Life is a gorgeous catastrophe
a twisted masterpiece
yearning only to be free.

And in our end, will we remember
that we are the fingerprints of the maker
as children pray before sleep, the lord their soul to keep
as if we were ever separable from the whole.

The lonely, the tragic, the misfits, the magic lost, the underdogs,
and the broken with their words unspoken
standing on the edge
between dreams and unclean things
would we remember
that being broken makes us whole
because all that is
will always be contained within the recesses of the human soul.