A need for hope?A need for hope?A need for hope?
With seismic energy we begin here in a cradle of fire, a scorching kiln, which yields the wonder; us ; life; austere and ancient but at its deepest core cracked. A Da Vinci with its dark tones flat black or a Mozart symphony off one semitone. A rainbow palate with a heart which lacks a heat for caring, not only alone. Was it here in this fire our end was drawn? With a drought and famine as old as time, half-bad, yet in which the torment was spawn that is to kill means yet to survive. But as these rhymes half fall into place infinite sec
A moment of eternityA Moment of Eternity: An EpiphanyA moment of eternity
Companionship, and its safe unfolding moments of ease are unveiled to the mind, as if by its discretion, opening transparent doors of time, of which behind lie life and love’s pictures; pre-empted, kind. Yet from the deep caverns of the soul spring plumes of invisible smoke which can blind the spirit’s eye of sense. A point; steadfast space in eternity. Two souls are cast like forged steel by dew ethereal; an unfurling diffusion, in which blast the crackling flames of lives imperial. Within a tear is this great force distille
MetropolisMetropolisMetropolis
A rising glow of heat drops light onto the concrete heart.
Fuzzy warmth and then a flicker as the jungle of stones is coaxed into a shimmering pulse of journeys, destinations and opportunity. From the full hanging hue of black: the mollifying hands of night.
Step after step after step… Surrounds softly. A multitude of moments
played out as suits - pinstripes, boiler, uniform -
buzz towards never endings.
Drops of peach and pale pink float on, like flotsam on grey fabric. They are the
On leaving homeOn Leaving HomeOn leaving home
Well, this is it and so I go today, my Ford Fiesta brimming, there’s no way it will manage the journey to my place. That’s not the point anyway. It’s Mum’s face that’s making me cramp my gut and half-wince. She looks so sad, “Love, have you got that mince?” Questions, answers, I can’t remember which cycle to use and the soap that won’t itch. A hug and kiss and a strangled goodbye, a brick in my throat, and rain in my eye? Eighteen years set, a sun in my mirror, I feel the way I should, this won’t linger, this fear that I think I’m f
I'm checking out your gallary because
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I really like living
Oh, and check out this person because she is special :iconinvertigo:
This is a great place, I just warn you: if you want comments, you need to give them. I'll give you a few pointers if you send me a note or comment or something.
Glad to know you're with us
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