Alter Ego

 

ALTER EGO

~Miss A

 

The Beginning Of The Dawn

What is this? Worth more power than me!
River of lava flowing, yet a part of my own
Of this majestic curse, I want a scoop, drink this elixir
Would it burn? Would I be able to take it? Can I own?
Rayleigh of the era curiosity takes the form.

Struggling who I was, who I am, who I wish to be,
Lists of wants so long, picturing an imagery of fiction
Holding all those instincts, acts, behavior, life and soul
A sculpture of glass, distant yet there, caged source of energy
A ghost as a subsided form, a through of friction and gravity
Let it enter my skin, in all forms, to make me a part as it’s coat
A transparent coat, filled with shades of morality, power and grim
An ego, so possessive, it engulfs and eats your soul, to a new you.
I’m sacred would it alter what I am as well?
And in what way; positive or negative?

This was sure more power than I’d expect,
Too much to hold, but now my yes means yes
No questions could uphold, my no means no
Everything you could wish, I can achieve, all in all
Rayleigh of era pseudo power takes the form.

This feels great, everything I do is encouraged
Every word I speak is thought of, is hence cherished
Makes me wonder, what all new sorts of things I shall perish
Standing upright with my own agendas,
And in every response I speak, speaks of my personality
Being called the greatest and so unseen of.
Ain’t I perfect? I’ve accepted it as well now.
Of this alter ego shaping the real me silently
Doesn’t even provoke the Alter Ego to notify it of so.
Training me lone originality with brush strokes of colours.

The Almost Ending Of Twilight

All the colours a chrome fill me back in the glass prism
Within all these chromatica, I would be me, own soul white
Ready to grieve in all these darkness, no loss but live the black
Would you let go of the greatest alter ego?
Rayleigh of era hang fire takes the form. 

I must have learned this from the tigers roaring in the wild
For no glides and mistakes, two steps back and hunt,
Sadly I would have to be subtle, for the final ego.
For my alter ego has to be unbreakable, filled with vivid glamour
To be looked up, as the one, with the best self
And no other. To be an idol you’d compensate
And this would not be made by the aspects of people
Not as how I am remarked an image socially
Or the one who is not sugar starch coated as me
It has to be me with all the shades, light and dark.

I’m waiting and waiting, training my alter ego
Which ones hand-shaken with, can alter the original ego
Both forces a fight in the ring, to win over each other
Yet the words that I speak, what do I speak?
Rayleigh of era combinatorial ego takes the form.

I wait till my strokes perfected to be a masterpiece
Trumpets, drums and cannons, can't wait, springs of divine flow
But with the sprinkles of originality form the fountain
So do I cultivate my mind peacefully...
Every though questioned in a thousand forms
Every transcript evaluated of, then rolling back
Calculating the blood, sweat and tears
Would I be self centered? Idea thrown to trash
Would I be caring? Idea enveloped to be thought
Menacing all the factors, only then I would rise.

 

The Eternity Named The Horizon

What is this behavior, every time that I accept?
The alter ego the originality complains, an infinitude
And this forms a chain, a never ending loop
I perfect everything and there’s room for improvement
Rayleigh of era boundless takes the form. 

This is bliss, to drink a gallop of this lava
To unrestraint the skin you’d be painting on
And so is a miracle, that I can still take a shower
And clean of all the dirt, after the colours sunk in
Ask me what does it feels to live a life, being looked onto
And all you can see are my eyes glittering, behold
A smile, spreading across from experience, beautiful
The angst, the wilts, the sigh, the reign
Hoping the new lights on the earth, can see as well
For I would be kept in dark, unaware of who I am

Why if the alter ego you speak highly of, shamed?
Why is it not prevailed on you by elders?
Are you sure of who you are, is what you are?
What have you become? Not human, but art?
Rayleigh of era insecure takes the form. 

The tiny little minds, asks the questions, unaware of world
And my words filling them with curiosity, rather them brain freezing  
That was where I begun as well, having no regrets, what I spun
People will say something, those with no knowledge speaks big.
People who could not get something develop have prejudice.
Yes, I am sure of whom I am, and I am thankful.
But dear make sure, when you swallow the curse
Bestow in your head to always leave a room to learn
Or you’d be crazy mad hatter, dancing on string like puppets.
Love yourself and others, bring the heat on, live long.