Everyone must be something
Might take yourself by surprise
There’s a motif to be filled,
Fear only the courageous
The possessed
And the realized;

The angels of exile
Lovers to the road,
These fortune tellers
Pose as poets
Feeding their egos lies
To chose how their illusion
Will be defined
Their eyes, their mind

Speak gently of conviction
Muse inspiration.
We must sip eterniety,
Our words live
Flapping on the tips
Of chaos’ butterfly wing.
As they erupt across ages
Effects of words turn
We follow in their wake

Heroics and cruelty
Law of instinct
Natural born nature
Now, go growstrong for the world,
For you must use
And be used.

Eric Mattson was born in New Jersey and currently lives in North Carolina. Over the past 6 months he has been traveling between New Jersey, Maryland, Philadelphia, and parts of Europe.