The past is filled with stories and the future, fantasies. This is now. Neither do I have a story nor a fantasy. The photograph I hold is dear to me; in it, I see a happy man. A possible story. A certain fantasy. How the tables have turned. I look at it and whisper “I … Continue reading Looking back
Why can't we fight?? I think of it every night Failing to close my eyes; I walk the roads alone now Thinking of you, oh how Soothing it was, to hear your voice! "Get back inside" Echoes in my head when I looked at the skies; Could it be you? Can this be true? "It's … Continue reading
Hunter was he, always solo. He enjoys power when wild beasts groveled in pain at his feet. It was just another sunny afternoon when he got off his work and walked into the woods with his tools expecting a wild boar as a bounty. Whistling his way into the green lush, the hunter marched ahead; … Continue reading A woman in need.
Six feet under I sleep Bones rotting away Under this heap I lay Buried with me Are my memories Do you regret having no say? Does your pride numb the pain?
When we realize And don't act We are alive But dead, infact.
I am an ocean That touches no shore I'm the wind That hesitates to blow A fire, Without heat and the glow The kind of pain That comes after love
Loving her was like waking up early on a Sunday morning; you have nothing to do but stroll about until something comes up. You regret being awake, you're irritated because you can't go back to sleep.