Cold breezes blow boldly, low feelings of losses
No passion, no action, serene scenery glosses
Tossed by swirling emotions, lonesome in this life
Pretend strife is not visible like a bridegroom & no wife
Because the standard is this, a man stands beside the Pit
Can’t deny the riff as words of love die on my lips
Tried & I tripped, fell over, but never in love’s shadow
Tragic, no warm magic surrounded & I lost the battle
Dazzled in my own light, not seeing the radiance of One
So I traveled alone, not knowing I was only a torch to the Sun
Deplored to run and falter, halted but I refrained to see
Sought the other half of my soul, but she never came to me
Remaining free, but true freedom lies in long hair locks
That shimmer with womanhood and who holds a box
In her bosom, for me and our union shall never part
She will walk beside me and cherish my heart.
As the silence from the keyboard dies miserably, Heather Headley croons “In My Mind” as though her soul had dined with my personal angel and discussed the rumblings of my soul. The notes and rhythms rippling and skipping lightly, as storm-tossed rocks are skipped over the waves of the incoming tide. In this serene enclosure, I reflect on the loneliness of a serene journey – silence only broken by the whispered prayer of Serenity. The darkness swallows and devours the cloudy air slipping from the recesses of my lungs and I trudge forward alone. The shrieking of a northern wind shrinks and surrenders to the howling of a single wolf, lost and estranged from his wolf pack familia; his savior the moon and his death the sun. In this torrid tundra his life, fueled by hunger and obsession, is flashed before his eyes faster than the flutter of the hawk’s wings as it stops the heart of one unnamed field mouse. I embrace his tiresome life and weave the threads of his travels into the heart of my own.
No passion, no action, serene scenery glosses
Tossed by swirling emotions, lonesome in this life
Pretend strife is not visible like a bridegroom & no wife
Because the standard is this, a man stands beside the Pit
Can’t deny the riff as words of love die on my lips
Tried & I tripped, fell over, but never in love’s shadow
Tragic, no warm magic surrounded & I lost the battle
Dazzled in my own light, not seeing the radiance of One
So I traveled alone, not knowing I was only a torch to the Sun
Deplored to run and falter, halted but I refrained to see
Sought the other half of my soul, but she never came to me
Remaining free, but true freedom lies in long hair locks
That shimmer with womanhood and who holds a box
In her bosom, for me and our union shall never part
She will walk beside me and cherish my heart.
As the silence from the keyboard dies miserably, Heather Headley croons “In My Mind” as though her soul had dined with my personal angel and discussed the rumblings of my soul. The notes and rhythms rippling and skipping lightly, as storm-tossed rocks are skipped over the waves of the incoming tide. In this serene enclosure, I reflect on the loneliness of a serene journey – silence only broken by the whispered prayer of Serenity. The darkness swallows and devours the cloudy air slipping from the recesses of my lungs and I trudge forward alone. The shrieking of a northern wind shrinks and surrenders to the howling of a single wolf, lost and estranged from his wolf pack familia; his savior the moon and his death the sun. In this torrid tundra his life, fueled by hunger and obsession, is flashed before his eyes faster than the flutter of the hawk’s wings as it stops the heart of one unnamed field mouse. I embrace his tiresome life and weave the threads of his travels into the heart of my own.
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