The power of words.
To be expressed, as with
The minds eye.
It is the fabric of our universe,
And the enlightenment of time.
Do I have your attention.
My history of flight,
In the outstretched arms you see
- a shadow.
All there is.
All there is - is a shadowy figure.
Stopping the pain.
So I bleed.
As I breath my last breath.
Like a fish out of water.
I become this pedestrian.
That pedestrian of thoughts
And broken dreams.
All for the promise,
I've shown up with the fight.
As a narrative of violent winds,
Swoosh!
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1 comment:
By not taking anything seriously, not considering that we were certainly given another reality beyond our sensations, we take refuge in them, and we explore them like great unknown lands.
And if we assiduously use ourselves not only in aesthetic contemplation but also in the expression of its modes and results, it's that prose or verse we write, destitute of the will to convince the understanding of others or move other wills, is only like the speaking aloud of a person reading, made to give total objectivity to the subjective pleasure of reading.
-Fernando Pessoa
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