This is the night. This is the end of one hope, the dawn of another . This is the beginning of all that may yet be. This is solitude. This is moonlight. This is the darkness. Once, when I was old enough to dream, but too young to stay upon the ground, I flew. Now, I am old enough to root myself in fear and doubt, and realism and logic, but too young to soar again.
My chance of paradise left me one cold February night, whereupon I chanced to make my dreams true. I held her in my arms, our embrace as timeless as forever. But it was not to last. For in my thoughts were those of love, ones I perchance had grown to show to my heart, and to her. But all too soon. Love left me that night, her kiss grew cold.
The distance, that grew between our once laughing hearts, hurt me. I ran. I ran far from the world and all i't's wretched beauty, until I could run no more. Awash in a haze of whiskey and broken dreams, I fell upon the shore one night, where all the stars could see me.
There I promised, as I do now, never to give up the hope, that one day, upon a dreaming star, She will return. Too seldom in life are there happy endings. I wish and pray, that my life will be granted one. To hold her in my arms again, safe in the knowledge that she will not leave, is perchance too much to dream. But when I dream, I dream for the stars.
Nought but two nights have passed, since I set in motion my everlasting dream. Now inside my heart burns a hope and desire, that I can reclaim a princess, an angel, a girl. I am but a man, but men will do all when needs must. So here, in the comfort of home, I write of all that shall be. In Dreams. In Darkness. And in the Hopes of all Time.
I have grown, past all pain, through endless nights and tears without consequence. Too close have I come before to what could end it all, to now slip beyond mortality. In the echoes of morning dew, I have wept. I have shed. I have loved. In timeless days, in unforgiving nights, I have prayed, I have hurt, I have grown.
Forever more shall I feel in love with being in love. A chance to render myself in stars and moonlight, a chance to let the world notice what it passes by. Simplicity founded in this grey facade of emotion. Complexity barren, through the ghosts and heroes that fall to love. Neither shall become me.
Memories of diary read forgiveness, fed upon to children's stories, are a tool left to me. Happiness. Embrace. Beginning. There is no end to remember, merely seperation. There are pains to render, better left forgotten. Time has reached its passing, and soon the memory will turn, from whereupon I hurt, to whereupon I learn, of all that she may be needing, for all she may yet feel.
I am a man. I am a nothing, floating through the night. I am a artist, working words in several shades of emotion. I am a dreamer. There is nothing I cannot fathom. In dreams, are all I may need. In life, is all that can be. Both are precious. Life and dream, forever more entwined in hope and promise, the rights of passage to the end of this growth, and the beginning of the evermore.
Thank you for reading.
Whoa, heavy. I think you and DE are going to get along real well. Oh, and welcome to the forums, BTW.
*snaps his boney fingers
and buys you a round of drinks.
be sure to visit Pocky world
and go up to the mike,
anytime you please.*
We hear ya, daddy!
The previously posted poem is my manifest, for live, romance and the essence of being. As time is of the essence, I shall post here when I can, of my thoughts, musings and failings.
I look forward to knowing all of you.
The night is long, it is hard, and we walk the path alone. The end is the day, something I must see again, if only to bid all that was a final, wonderful goodbye.
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