All emotions are beautiful. They run in the heart of the fire, going as quickly as they come. The heat and glow reflects the severity. Often are they so deceivingly pretty to look at. And the smoke, oh... the black smoke.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Her wait
She met him once, quite some time ago
When the sun was still down
He held her hand and they crossed the
Busy night street with some friends with
Foreign unmarked faces and
The night lights were a blur she could only
Vividly recall his black polo T and got a whiff of
What was to unfold in the distant future
They were safe on the other side and her heart
Was madly thumping with giddy love
A little like vodka in a huge gulp she turned to
Catch a glimpse of her soul mate yes
She knew he was the one she just knew but
Was frantic when he vanished and left her standing
Staring into the darkened background staring
At the unfinished subconscious reverie
Panic soothed when she remembered
His grip on her so strong and sure
She knew he would come back to
Cross roads with her once more and
To make a path of stones and pebbles that
Belongs only to him and her and
The bitter and sweet things they
Would come to share and build, together.
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