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Pitter patter
The beat lingers as inspirations form
Sprinkling tears from the sky
Walk in place and arrive at worlds beyond
The grey backdrop only enhances the beauty of here and now
Light and airy (so is the mood)
Gifts from nature are always present
With what may come as the rain passes each second
Each drop captures a dream
Each note, a song (it ( Read more... )

this is the world we live in ( Read more... )

Passion cues in a soft red hue. Their words quench my parched lips. My thoughts are sorted and spoken, but not by me. It's better this way. With an English accent and comfortable demeanor, they can woo me anytime. I would love to see them live. Heart to heart.

Anger is forbidden. Anger can't be felt. Instead, my heart melts in a sea of happiness ( Read more... )

21.02.07, 1100 ( Read more... )

Today went as it came, seeking nothing but gaining nothing in return.

But today comes before tomorrow.

This place we call Phoenix nags about riches and fashion so often that we forget to be reborn from the ashes. We complain so much we never seem happy. A mere walk to the store won't do anymore; each block appears to be so far from our reach that a ( Read more... )

What is it we live for? For others, the subconscious created by those around us. Those who understand the insignificance of a being yet idolizes it. Our imperfections personify our absolutions. Liberation of one mind conflicts the absence of other's. The things we follow ties us down to it. Passion is undoubtedly the thing that is resented. ( Read more... )

The path leads to nowhere. We all end up in our graves. The emptiness in the road that is hackneyed and faded into the darkness. There is no fork; there is only the road not traveled. Who dares to wander that path? Everyone. And that becomes the road that is traveled. Be brave, but not too brave. Be consistent, but surprising. Be surprisingly ( Read more... )

The hole I have dug surrounds me, but doesn't seem so deep as I learn to leave the path of destruction. Nothing sucks the marrow out of motivation like the lack of creation. When one thing dies, another is born. The only trouble is waiting. Purgatory. A sort of sorry but not really. The inflictions leave marks that only heal with time, but a story ( Read more... )

always hustle bustle; fix the family, fix the garden. to Her, there's always a mess no matter how much She resolves ( Read more... )

i don't want to be in my English class ( Read more... )