As timorous we are we couldn’t previse our ending future.It is in our nature to raise our hopes in the air. By asking for the who’s, the when’s and the where’s we shall find our love affair. They say “don’t poke the bear”, or thou shall fall down in million pair. So be aware my dear human being. Because you are the one to been keen. Though you prepare what you can repair.
As for the starry nights we will be walking down the dreamy welkin…. And as likely we are we will be wearing our bridge coat. For I try to quote Poe himself I lose my thoughts into his words of the blue note. “From the Hell of the planetary souls?” and ought he touch my bloody throat. He sketches little anecdote as he sails down the river on his rowing boat.
We happen to be talking about the when’s, the where’s and the why’s. But in reality we never just appreciate the things around us, as we are the spirit of the skies. So, every now and then we just have a leap of faith and let time catch us. For we all consider our future treasonous. The all unknowing mighty power is ticking his last seconds of the hour. And as bright he could be using his manpower he will be deflowered. So let her grow…… that lovely flower.
While we act for a story to tell, we write to portray our visions brain cell.
We feel so we can touch. Nor do we see so much, but in reality we don’t enjoy our lives as such.
In a time that everything can be biblical or theoretical. We yet choose to be prophetical while being ethical.
just incase we have to fly into the aerospace take me to a place where I can embrace my hiding space. Walking with delightful grace we share our air and leave no trace. In motion we move, asking the question ; ” What are you trying to prove?”. Moving clockwise and reacting with a countermove. You talk and slither with tongue while we are still young we will walk among!
With passion we grow and with envy we seek for the low. So we wish for closure even if we knew we would lose. In none human abuse we believe, nonetheless asking for the who’s. We listen to our own muse back to the blues! thou shall refuse, thou shall overuse but always in power with our own inner strength shoes.
Still young and ambitious, barely a “young adult” according to society. Looking forward to my future with my open eyes I feel the struggling of anxiety. Nevertheless, I always sink down in dubiety. Something to keep me on track for variety.
Barely a “young adult” I still search for my inner peace. And when I have that surely unknown piece I will release my enemy for the rising decease. Because I am whom I could be. The best part of me. Let me touch and let me see, because I want to be free.
We, as in you and I, pre-occupied in our own make-believe world. Though we shall run to the underworld and defeat that ever can be hurled. Our nemesis also known as oneself we shall fear no-one but ourself. So we write everything down until the gods read our pages on the bookshelf. Never lost nor never won and for I shall be done I will hurl that handgun and never lose my hope as number one. In repeating moves we embrace the shallow games on the long-run until we loose our breath for so long and take a leap to the Fire-sun! I kiss the earth goodbye and say hello to my new born morning son.
For I have embraced the shot that I have taken to be in a coma and screaming loudly for Oklahoma I will accept my faith and diploma. I use random words to define my Aroma even if I have been in Seattle Tacoma. Meet me in the middle of Minnesota so I can go back to Oklahoma. My wish, granted. My dreams, rising. And my power off will, fighting. So I shall be enchanted, even if you been uprising we shall smile into the lightning!