Holding his love in my soul, always with hope in our tomorrows.
Loving him even with my last dying breath of life when it comes to me.
Love never dying even as I’m taken to heaven one day in the future.
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Looking inside at my reflection, seeing it mirror the sadness that’s always with me.
Letting it loose to roam in pictures of my soul, then silently writing about it as I sink deeply into a rhetoric of blind knowing, allowing words to aptly describe what it is that touches me so intently.
Tranquilizing effects of imagination are
do the most good for others.Intelligent conversations abound in details,where fortunate circumstances turn about,giving impressions that’ll last forever inmemories, absent during death’s entrance.
Life is a banal creature, hurting and maiming us throughout it’s span of time.
Splintering and dropping us into heaps of trash to find our way out of.
Stomping musically down roads, leading to eternity, watching scenery as I pass on my own.
Never being a part of anyone’s adventure, closely following solo desert plains, reacting and feeling tranquilly inside it’s arid beauty.Casting about, trying to find meaning and relief from all sorts of grieving.Standing alone, once and for all, becoming no one again.
Seething inside, afraid to speak for I may hurt someone’s feelings
Anger stretching tightly across my mind, pulling me in directions Idon’t want to go.Taciturnly listening to echoes of irate symbols, trying to keep peaceat my side so I won’t fall into an emotional trap, singeing my soul, because I don’t want to.