//I love you a little more than I loved myself - Grow//
winter petals covered her pale face, her dark eyes stuck on the sangfroid sunshine ready to shoot up the sky, after a thousand maps followed, she reaches the altar to burn her burdens. Instantly the red fire turns blue cold, ashes fly into summer.
blinking she turns those blinds, hidden in the old attics, beneath lies a dragon breathing distinct
horrendous stories at the night.
blazemoche in fireplace, cacti resting all over her brain, heart and ofcourse bookshelf. passing by western winds provide hurricanes, only thorns flew by, and the cactus remained not wanting proses (water). abolished, abandoned, abscorned, and many more to call the walked past stranger who proved that self love is priceless priority and possession.
//You turn a page and touch another life - Stay//
vagabond surrenders to unknown streets, falling apart in the books, she breathes. ripped halcyon donated like in charity to the birds nested in the next page. she drifts into melancholic nostalgia. critics called her out. she resides in past, present and future, as an author, she cherished her work.
embellished verandah with different genres, she had her stay in mysterious collections of vintage editions printed in fall.
// A lone girl and a familiar song - Remember//
solitary reaper resides in her home, autumn flew back from the west, she held the same book and found the author, she hums to enjoyable read. a similar wanderer just like her, remember the beautiful scene, and along her scars, as stardust kept leaking, she wraps the cottony gauze around the wound. her voice silences the roars of seas and fireflies flew by her, lightening the same night.
//The moment between saying goodbye and leaving - Walk//
obscured portraits of the fantasy of being successful, kept hidden behind the silvery mirror, he walks past the dressing table sensing his own energy sweeter than anything else. the practice of art, he gained verses, singing along her dreams, he painted mirrors with smileys wanting to keep the art alive, he drinks the last sip of wine to celebrate his art, only he could see, her soul saved in his mirror.
//What died before death - Feel//
capernaum receives the last call, and so does the earth. artists gather around for one last time before the world's ruined. writing, singing, painting, building, all the way to reach the skies, they dance along the clouds in air. he or she whoever awaits heavens found peace and abode in their own belief.
no wonder, just before the catastrophic disaster, one last time they feel the wind gushing through spring for the other world to theirs, the snowflakes from other world to theirs and the sunshine.