Do you remember the day the moon dropped from the sky?
And we ran through the forest to find where it lie,
I was tripping on tree roots and slipping on snow,
You were holding my hand saying not to let go,
When we found it at last there were twigs in our hair,
A rose on our cheeks and our breath in the air,
And the words to describe it got stuck in our throats,
As it's silver light danced through the threads of our coats,
We knew that our eyes had not seen such a view,
You were looking at it,
I was looking at you. 

                 -e.h

                                                    -

Being happy doesn't mean everything's perfect. It means you've decided to look beyond the imperfections.

                                                    -

We are painters without paint,
Mixing the colours in our mind,
Glance upon our palettes
And black ink is all you'll find.
But from its depths we pull
A sky written of brightest blue,
Swirling drops of dreams
Into the things we know as true.
With just the flicker of our wrist
We can make the moonbeams sing,
Spill golden rays of sunrise
Over all of everything.
We can conjure calm or chaos
By just willing it be so,
Pave roads to where your thoughts
Have never realized they could go. 
Our pens can pull you on a journey,
On a pilgrimage, a quest,
Drag you through your darkest hours
And blend them with your best.
So when it ends you stumble backwards
In shock to find it's black and white,
We are painters without paint
And that's the reason why we write.

                 -e.h

                                                     -

My apologies, writers block has me in it's clutches. I have taken down "Shadow Sirens" and "Encased in Tragedy" for editing, both major and minor. They will hopefully make more sense, flow easier, be longer, and focus on plot and character development rather than primarily the latter when I have concluded editing. I will now write to focus on quality and length rather than quantity of chapters.