They are the birds of prey and paradise,

The devil and angel.

Complete opposites, yet so alike, twisting, turning, breathing.

A tangled mess of raw emotions and bruised mindsets,

All diving in for the same prize, as though a bird after a worm.

All fighting for the same relief, the same weight lifted away from their hearts,

The same requiem sang for their personal terrors.

We all want to change in one way or another.

Too this, too that, criticism after criticism being thrown,

Until people just won't accept these words, unless it comes from themselves.

Ah, and that is the thing, is it not? Indeed, we are all our own worst critics.

We wish to go so far, yet we provide ourselves with so little.

We can see how far we dream to fly, but cannot see where, as the same desire that motivates, 

Also blinds.

So we stay rooted to our thoughts, forever tangled up in this breathing wreck of desired agony.

Love, a word used to show endearment.

Hate, used to show hostility.

Both used towards people, objects, and life itself, against itself,

Healing and hurting, destroying and rebuilding, preserving and rotting,

Never quite too different from one another.

Love can be abused, brutalized, and mutate into hate,

All while hate is slowly being turned into a horrific form of so called love.

Or love can foster and be nurtured into a beautiful flowing creature,

And hate can start to fade away.

Knowing all this, we try to process them like everything else in the world,

So different, so captivating, 

Seemingly so simple to our minds filled to the brim with butterflies of desire.

But we can't.

They refuse.

They will not budge.

They will not stop breathing.

They will not stop living.

They will never be able to disentangle themselves from all of the abused thoughts, emotions, and power.

And yet the one thing we do understand is the thing most people forget.

How easy it is to get swept up in the current of hatred and love is something most people,

Would disregard.

Words are thrown mindlessly, people are hurt, relationships are demolished, 

While friendships are being made, and new ideas are built into spectacular sights. 

So why aren't we more careful? Why don't we trod more meticulously on these loose floorboards of thought and figure?

Maybe someday, the answer will come.

Maybe someday, people will be able to love instead of hate,

And realize how the differences between the two,

Actually bring them closer together, as opposites attract.

Maybe someday, the bird will finally reach it's worm after trying so hard for so long.

Maybe someday, people will just be, and flow with the wavelengths of the world around them.

Maybe someday,

Maybe someday,

The people who disregard, condemn, condescend, and wreak havoc the most,

Will be able to realize the painful similarities between their own versions,

Of love and hate.

Because the bird never really fails at getting the worm.

It just depends on how it is perceived.