(no subject)
Sorry because this is long. It feels good to be back on track, but I still think it's a bit weak.
It all started when C. started walking.
She walked in between two roads so far apart,
with diversity in destination and arrangements,
commencing different boundaries.
C. started the first step with toes pointing out,
etching jagged lines to move forward callously,
on a street full of stones with jaws for biting.
But she walked on, balancing between two roads.
Ahead of C. was no proper horizon; it was dent,
and the roads quilted a sense of unfeeling,
curving in and out of the land.
The joints were badly patched, like a massacre
done for an unsettling conversation.
Her feet pressured the land greatly,
creating bountiful craters: the deeper the better.
C. was not afraid, in fact,
this is the advent of her appearance,
her whole being is screaming for, naively,
an exciting collision of hearts.
But she walked on, as two roads began to deteriorate.
The two roads began to speak,
shuffled a great war as the tar breaks off.
One spoke of a higher volume,
making roadsigns of shifting far away,
taking different agenda claims and drifting off.
While the other had a sense of a lower ground,
but making even bigger statements of outrage,
kicking the other's statements filled with disability.
A great riot, of two different linear strokes,
making black and white judgements of their own.
But she walked on, as two roads dodged from their counterparts.
From the start, the road was one.
But it was cut into half with each on their own,
making different amendments for themselves,
as the other shouted "Selfish!" but didn't realised
that it was calling it's own name.
One prefered left, another took the right.
One prefered tradition, another took a modern route.
I want the white. I want the black.
But she walked on, observing the fight between two roads.
They were no longer combined to each other,
and the further they went, they became incongruent,
but still maintaining the pride of overpowering the other,
to show the good way, in their own mind.
C. continued, pressing lower and lower,
with an upward curve of the mouth,
As she walked on along two roads of Contradiction.
It all started when C. started walking.
She walked in between two roads so far apart,
with diversity in destination and arrangements,
commencing different boundaries.
C. started the first step with toes pointing out,
etching jagged lines to move forward callously,
on a street full of stones with jaws for biting.
But she walked on, balancing between two roads.
Ahead of C. was no proper horizon; it was dent,
and the roads quilted a sense of unfeeling,
curving in and out of the land.
The joints were badly patched, like a massacre
done for an unsettling conversation.
Her feet pressured the land greatly,
creating bountiful craters: the deeper the better.
C. was not afraid, in fact,
this is the advent of her appearance,
her whole being is screaming for, naively,
an exciting collision of hearts.
But she walked on, as two roads began to deteriorate.
The two roads began to speak,
shuffled a great war as the tar breaks off.
One spoke of a higher volume,
making roadsigns of shifting far away,
taking different agenda claims and drifting off.
While the other had a sense of a lower ground,
but making even bigger statements of outrage,
kicking the other's statements filled with disability.
A great riot, of two different linear strokes,
making black and white judgements of their own.
But she walked on, as two roads dodged from their counterparts.
From the start, the road was one.
But it was cut into half with each on their own,
making different amendments for themselves,
as the other shouted "Selfish!" but didn't realised
that it was calling it's own name.
One prefered left, another took the right.
One prefered tradition, another took a modern route.
I want the white. I want the black.
But she walked on, observing the fight between two roads.
They were no longer combined to each other,
and the further they went, they became incongruent,
but still maintaining the pride of overpowering the other,
to show the good way, in their own mind.
C. continued, pressing lower and lower,
with an upward curve of the mouth,
As she walked on along two roads of Contradiction.