Eagle's flight of loneliness soars so high Around its sigh, no more alone the sky Other birds remain away, clouds pass byBetween shrouds of life and haze sun rays die
...I fell asleep and had a dream that a king was liquidated by a group of kind faces...
Do we not each dream of dreams? Do we not dance on the notes of lost
Rejoice with glitters of ashes tonightSparkling for moon's spiced silver biteUpon skin of darkness, loving night moreStorm begins unlocking cold wind's door
Call me crazy, but there is something terribly wrong with this city.
There is a stillness between us, a period of restlessness that ties my stomach
She leaves my side and heads deeper into
Do we not each dream of dreams? Do we not dance on the notes of lostmemories? Then are we not each dreamers of tomorrow and yesterday, since dreamsplay when time is askew? Are we not all adrift in the...
...unforgivingly, and forcefully magnificent...
All is as if the world did cease to exist. The city's monuments go unseen, its past unheard, and its culture slowly fading in the dismal sea.
To write good poems is the secret of brevity.
a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand;but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,when I don't know, if you will ever come back.
I rouse Emily to our guests, as she finishes off our fifteenth snowman by setting the head atop its torso. She stands limp at my direction, pointing out the coming shadows and I cannot help but hear a...
I steal one glance over my shoulder as soon as we are far from the foreboding luminance of the neon glow, and it is there that my stomach leaps into my throat. Squatting just shy of the light and part...
I build boxesand place them at your feet,to measure the distance between dreams and reality.
Bridge burned from end to end,and I don't miss you anymore.You delivered silenceI've birthed freedom.
I balance you on the end of my pen.Teetering between loveand letting go.
Through windows,in wishing wells,whispering in the wind...that's where I find you.
I've never seen beauty so devastatingas in the linesthat trace our hopeand fall from the stars.
Steep fall to the groundshatteringlike clay pigeons missed by bad shotsand unsteady hands.
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