Smokers breathe into Destinies' Hue...
We forgot one day,
what we thought we could remember now.
We never did...
Some things are best forgotten and buried,
under the sand as time ruins for us...
what mistakes we make,
when our hourglass is almost up.
Time wages the wars of distance,
that we hypnotically fear and hide from.
Let this night cover us,
Lest our wings bleed our death.
So be the days of our sea,
a fleck of sand upon a million tiny islands...
that race our hearts' notions,
to intercept the borderline that consists...
between our reality and the next,
and we are swept up.
Immune to our days' end,
which flashes past us like so many notes...
and within them fills,
a thousand drops...
that only I can hear.
There is an ocean outside my window,
do you hear it?
Do you hear it?
Let our hearts fall like the rain,
and be buried beneath your wasted blue...
let the dandelions be your wish for a free life.
Apart from these lands.
Where we forget.
Anew.
Creaking wind and oak tales,
we have lit the fire in you...
your beacons harness our path,
through this night land...
and we wear upon our sleeves and skin,
the fate of those who we have known...
and loved for a time.
Words spin through my head...
a million fractures,
a million ways...
and all we see is Light,
here in this small hour.
No it is not a pure hope we feel,
but something darker...
of the endless ocean depths,
and this windswept heart...
we still possess.
Storm skids...
high above and we feel its' heat,
drawing our bones...
light years away;
where we float,
in celestial patterns...
and far into the secret,
of the cricket-chirrup delusion.
...Miss C.L.Scarlett xx
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