Felteraz

Hair like a dull fire among the Autumn leaves, skin like creamy milk speckled with cinnamon , lips like rose petals with the succulence of strawberries, eyes that put entire spring forests to shame, eyes that too often let loose a single drop, shimmering crystalline portal to a heart, held together by threads of hope, tossed around by those who have tasted this delicacy, but have never shown the due respect.

Language is powerful often misunderstood by so many who use it We take the words we know and form incomplete puzzles leaving us wondering how or more commonly, why? To those who say that the sword is actually mightier than the pen because the blade can leave the body scarred Well, I must remind them, ink leaves a stain on the heart.

Isn't it always a little bit funny how the light we wake to always turns black leaving us with only a faint memory of what was and what used to give me strength to move mountains has regressed to little more than the tug of the wind These bright wings that used to carry my weight- my dearest companions, my oldest friends- have become frail and lost their gift for flight As I sit and watch, cracks form where they shouldn't I can't help but see what was once, is decaying, fading into a lesser state, dying from the inside out, crumbling into nothing more than Remembrance

You said you would give us a chance you said it could work maybe it was mean- But is wasn't ever really maybe it was always something else or an excuse at a never Now I have seen and the winds are changing clouds are forming static is in the air A storm is brewing love. And you won't find shelter here.

Running through the downpour, tears of joy let loose by the angels, harmonious laughter fighting against the roaring wind, my tenor accompanying her soprano. Stopping for a moment, she kicks a nearby puddle, the splash of water soaking my legs up past my knees. grinning mischievously, taking off, away to the cover of a fading oak. Turning around her eyes widen, as she watches me tackle her down, down to a soft bed of blood orange leaves. Laying on top of her, I couldn't help but lose myself in the blue-gray maze of those eyes, gateways to a soul I long to merge with. Reaching my hand behind her neck, wet silk, my fingers entangling them

The boy's fingers danced glided across the piano the notes resonating within him He poured himself into the song, the music speaking for him in a way that he could never speak for himself

Staring up into the darkness of the room, tears rolled down the man's cheeks, and he asked the world Why me? What have I done to deserve any of this pain? But in his heart, he knew the answer. It was the reason he could no longer face the nights alone. He needed a companion. A friend to distract him. So he took to a drink that burnt the throat and clouded the mind, but the more he let go of himself, the more room he left for anger. His "friend" never helped in the way he wanted, the way he needed. Feeling betrayed, he threw the bottle, shattering it into a thousand shards. The man collapsed to the floor, no matter what he did, the scen

We did as you asked and rested you under the rose bush you always said that it was beautiful and dangerous just like you It's been Nine winters since and my mind knows where you are but my heart is unsure Are you resting on a beach, matching your voice with angels, or are you skipping through the fire, showing Lucifer the meaning of Hell? Wherever you may be, rest well sister

Sometimes I need to scream you people flaunting your righteousness isn't really you can't expect me to believe Am I really what you say I am villain you call me pointing your values, how as if you are better than what you see And isn't it funny how your good stories all need a bad person?

In her few years of traveling this cold earth, she walked through thorns, came out bloodied, hardened Her chest now a steel cage, keeping the world out, locking herself in But he saw through her prison she called a barrier, chasing this girl to the end, asking (hoping) for the key So many times before, the thorns pierced her weak- could (please let) this time isn't it her turn to stop being scared? Then again, this could always- she reached inside, pulling out- what if I am wrong, I can't not aga- remaining scraps of what once was- This isn't a good idea, what if- her hands quivering, offering him- I have to try, maybe this once- her he