- Reads 6
- Votes 4
- Parts 1
- Time <5 mins
Complete, First published Dec 09, 2015
It's like someone played the wrong chord on a vital organ... now I can hear the rising score morphin and taking over. Taking over the senses it connects to, it connects four because the clouded eyes behind these glasses are pourin. Somewhere, in a garden hidden inside a forest, a flower falls... A hitch in the step of sunrise, not strong enough to break into dawn, the darkness of the void is granted more time. Unintended benevolence, ignorant of what's ahead of us, fishin for love with negligence, forfeiting our inheritance, trying to attain a better trust. Empty handed in the end, facial expression incredulous. Like a roll of thunder, the flower crashes powerfully to the ground... The bees lose passion for their honey... Badgers crawl from the cracks and crevices to lie dejectedly on the sand... the deer come down from the hills... Butterflies self identify with the cocoon... there are tear drops on the leaf tips. The dew of a morning that will either never come, or never cease. IAll Rights Reserved
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