Two Prose., Prose is poetry. Options

[Kontroll]

Wisdom?
Dreaming of everything I aspire to be, I judge to harshly on others for the same things I do. Nothing is but petty imperfection to the standard of process and outcome to the way I, myself, hold it to be. Trees are in close partnership to the personality of man as no two are exact. But my poor lines and shades fulfill nothing more than a dull depiction of the sad resemblance between the two. That, in itself, is the best example of how perfectionism, a false belief that every intricacy has to be as the God who brought forth our existence, disesembles the greatest and most grand fellows. We as humans are but devils construing in the psuedo-worship of our own command. Left to our own devices we will but perish.

- - -

My Feelgoodness
If only I could say what I see, I'd sketch you a world that exists only in a few. A pen becomes words in motion and mountains are a testament of God's perfection. Christmas snows the stories in the whispers of the angels, whose audible murmers are only but faint utterances to what dances and mozies on golden streets.

The names we recognize are not always the best for the holes and cracks that line the flaws hold deep secrets that such gods and lords can never possess.

Stories are stories, but fantastical prose are since revolutions told of a dozen white roses laid on empty caskets of the great captains who fenced my life so great around that not a sword could pierce or bullet penetrate.

Religion is to bind your fear into submission that indulgence open the Gates of Heaven for my dear lost aunts and grandparents. God be with them on their new journeys homes that they may not lose the path to which gets less crowded thousands of years by thousands of years.

[lalalaLANUH]

The first one Wisdom? is like everything I've ever thought only I've never been able to put it into words. You're quite talented.
At first I was scared away by all the...well I believe illumineering put it best. The wordiness and pseudo-philosophy.