It's Not Poetry Cause I Didn't Break It Up

She's so pretty, that's the only thought I wrought from my mind. It's so much easier just to look at her and say nothing, just float down the river of her lights and flows. Heaven knows nothing of this kind of bright. She wields that beauty like lightning.

Someone yelled asscat and the dance floor erupted in violence. Fists flew and people shifted into murder mode. It got worse and worse over the course of 10 seconds. I'm positive someone even had a laser weapon of some sort because I remember seeing bright lights, mists of blood and flying body parts. After a minute of chaos the weak had been slaughtered and the few left seemed blood sated. Then someone yelled asscat once again and the murder playoffs kicked off.

Chipping away at rock for years. Stop for a moment to look. See how many more years it will take you before Crazy Horse is freed from the mountain side. Steel your resolve and put hope in the people who will do the chipping once you've croaked out. Continue chipping.

What am I trying to do here?