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When the seasons

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Written by   311
1 month ago
Topics: Poems, Writting, Write

Sculpted like lifeless human sculpting. Do not believe that all will change and disappear. Have to get up and try not to think about himself. It's not that they're just stories and events that don't deserve to be remembered.

“The longing for the rustling sound that can calm the storm of the soul that is starting to worry, against the boulder, when will that sound be able to hear again? When to admit? ".

Asked the question repeatedly with an unclear image and physical appearance.

Lonely being close friends every day, the clink of time becomes a silent beat in every daydream.

Resentment was those words in his heart right now. Don't you remember the limits of the heart that God has created for humans? Where the self is waiting every time with the wind that continues to blow.

When the seasons change, the weather is no longer there. Never mind a shadow, the sound has never been heard until now. Going away to get away, and finally for an unanswered consciousness for all.

“Never turn around, keep on stepping forward, to wait for the boat to pull over in front of the orange door. That's where we unite the road map of true life. Every day the dew sheds its fidelity in the morning, as it never ceases to reveal a dream of unity”.

Endure and hope all quickly can be answered. The seasons are rapidly changing, the breezy conditions also change at that time. It is no longer as cool as water when it was created. Do you have to go leave and forget? Trying to build a new monument together or accept your own meaning. Closed trying to erase your shadow in every dream. Could it be that he could forget the orange map that had been created? Residing with the person who will build a magnificent monument to him.

Still kneeling behind the mountain rock on the edge of the lake. Language stays faithful in waiting for the star in every night, the sunshine in its heart. Follow the path and take a splash of water from the edge of the lake. Then drink it. "Why did the taste of the water change? Why isn't it as cute as it used to be? Why does it turn out imperceptible? Are you okay? ? ”. Back petrified in the sand dune with a million questions and pieces of worry in his soul. But the question was not answered in the seconds that passed.

The rainbow blackened, the roar rumbled and the sky rebelled as if it was angry with the universe. Although leaving blue in its bright spot. The horizon faded and finally disappeared. Dark eyes looked away from the river. Where was the universe at that time? There is no shelter between the sad rain.

Following the science of dew faithful to the morning. Waiting at the orange door. Gazing at a beautiful smiling shadow behind the window pane. The taste didn't change, even though the taste of the lake water had turned imperceptibly. Want to give a few drops of sugar so that the water turns sweet again. But what's the power of disappointment still meets and doesn't go away.

Never regretted being loyal to, because I was sure that the voice would return to calm the boisterous waves that hit the rocks on the shore of the lake.

If the judge knocks on the hammer, there's no question who is guilty, that's why. Unable to stem the water that falls when the rain comes. Now the water is abundant along the deep lake. Even a palace for billions of fish and other water inhabitants. The monument is getting stronger embrace its beauty. Maybe the angel won't kiss him again even though the forehead has made an impression because he prostrated for too long.

Come on, stop waiting, because that will leave grievous wounds. Tired of wearily of hearing the groaning about the aimless road map of life. Has found Kejora on stage plays. Has anchored and will not return to sail with the old canoe that has pulled over at the orange door.

Lightning struck the universe. Do not destroy the wind that combs the edge of the lake, and do not have the heart to tear apart the orange door. Want to scream with all my might and tell the rustling wind at that time.

Trying to understand why the heavens are angry. Maybe someone injured him so he raged the orange door. Time is always squeezed to mark a departure.

A splash of lake water whispered to the wind at that time. Reported that he had built a new monument that was more perfect than the orange door monument. Back standing still at the news. More powerful than the lightning that strikes nature. Now the lightning has penetrated and incarnated in the inner soul. Get lost.

Only for a moment and it has made you complacent. The wait stopped at the lake stream. Shivering cold. Yes ... it was very cold at that time, cutting the mind, leaving a sad puddle in the soul.

Go with the faithful dew in the rice of the day. Shutting down along with the flow of blood in the veins that have stopped. Annihilated with a heart that stopped beating. Lost with his familiar silence.

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Avatar for Alther
Written by   311
1 month ago
Topics: Poems, Writting, Write
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