Listening to:
Thinking of:
I turned off the music to feel the jab as the pedal is pressed, the surreal silence within the cabin and the howl of the engine outside. I turned off the lights and fan to hear the crickets. Two different origins, yet with both I feel at peace.
"A flower’s not so weak; a flower’s not so cold"
A sticky note with 13 names, each one cut down one at a time, some just crossed out of failure. Yet, many more to be added just with hope that one will come through.
"A flower’s not so scared to wither and to grow old"
One voice in the head, driving me insane. Yet with the insanity, perhaps I’d comprehend the care within.
I could be… frail.
Part deux
In a crowd, the image of a black man and a white child. Hands held, smiles shared. Both with a missing tooth and a silly laugh. Black suits pass, click of heels as they cross the aisle. Each with one purpose, all different yet with one goal… Me.
Conversation with a child, who once believed in you
So many forgotten, both young and old. Deviated, forgotten, apprehensive, silenced…
How does one explain to him what it is you do
Castles on hilltops burn, come crashing to the ground. Light up the furnace, take it all down. Pillage and plunder, salvage what is left. From civilization’s final mess.
Daddy, daddy please tell me its not true
Yet for now, the passing of the man and child keeps faith. Humanity may still prevail. Eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die (diet :P).
So many things from his past he starts to understand
-Fin-
*Think what you wish. Its just scribbles and jottings, no bearing on life… I hope.
Thinking of:
I turned off the music to feel the jab as the pedal is pressed, the surreal silence within the cabin and the howl of the engine outside. I turned off the lights and fan to hear the crickets. Two different origins, yet with both I feel at peace.
"A flower’s not so weak; a flower’s not so cold"
A sticky note with 13 names, each one cut down one at a time, some just crossed out of failure. Yet, many more to be added just with hope that one will come through.
"A flower’s not so scared to wither and to grow old"
One voice in the head, driving me insane. Yet with the insanity, perhaps I’d comprehend the care within.
I could be… frail.
Part deux
In a crowd, the image of a black man and a white child. Hands held, smiles shared. Both with a missing tooth and a silly laugh. Black suits pass, click of heels as they cross the aisle. Each with one purpose, all different yet with one goal… Me.
Conversation with a child, who once believed in you
So many forgotten, both young and old. Deviated, forgotten, apprehensive, silenced…
How does one explain to him what it is you do
Castles on hilltops burn, come crashing to the ground. Light up the furnace, take it all down. Pillage and plunder, salvage what is left. From civilization’s final mess.
Daddy, daddy please tell me its not true
Yet for now, the passing of the man and child keeps faith. Humanity may still prevail. Eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die (diet :P).
So many things from his past he starts to understand
-Fin-
*Think what you wish. Its just scribbles and jottings, no bearing on life… I hope.
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