She smiles under the shade of silent dusk,
Grievings lay under the mask of indulgenes
to witness the procession of Life Walks,
and the moments elapse like spirit of the darkness.
The lament of her sorrows enchanting
clogging up the emptiness of her heart
with its secrets
then the heart is about to rupture
for weeping is filling up its veins,
voices of passions are so sweet:
But the musical of heart is the cry of Glory..
I am able no awareness of what awaits me when i awake:Consciousness is a Tender Moment.
I don’t know myself anymore,
my remembrances have lost its color like the snaps on the wall
I’ve all gone beyond my wits
I'm sitting here now with nothing to do:
My thoughts slipping back to you.
After years of yearning
into eternity
i stumble n fall
In between the soft cloud,a white broken wing dove flies low
to reach a harmony..
to mend his broken heart..
to dream his broken wish..
that flew away ..
beyond the sea.
Beyond the wide sea,
he lost his vision..
he lost his symphony..
he lost his heart-throb..
he lost his fondness..
In between the soft cloud,
a white broken wing dove flies low
to find a sparkling tenderness
to sling a novel hope..
that lost its way..
beyond the sea.
~Originated wrote for Nu, a friend of mine. Tomorrow will be a better day Nu, I promise~
To put our feeling into words
-and to later read our own words-
is a healing experience.
