The Icarus type, a truly destructive addiction: the flowers that can touch the sky, to the worlds below the fire. Burn, then soar. I love you blind, my Van Gogh girl. Stay. Ami, cherie, amour. Life and death. A love too great for a gentle heart. A mind too fragile for a big idea. A tongue to rip worlds from their hinges. A monologue the gods would listen to attentively. Too much, too much, too much. Stay... Help me, please. Save me, please. The artist and the poet. The deaf musician. Da Vinci couldn't beat. A soldier, a ghost. To be or not to be. Forever and truly always. This is the revolution, a renaissance. Too great, too clustered. Boy with steel in your eyes. Hope til the end of the day. A beauty no soul could challenge. A portrait of a deceased, diseased fate. The glory of the yet to come. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Nothing will conquer. Shall you live fully and freely.
Til we meet again,
A fellow nocturnal mind.
