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￭ in return for your navy blue shirt
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2008-01-28 | |
I wish I knew a pencil and a piece of paper which were meant to be together. Not a pen. No! Because when you encrypt your thoughts using a pen, they are to be perceived an eternity as loyal to what you uttered through it. A pencil gives you the opportunity to erase and rewind, offer yourself a new starting point, like the sentence anticipating a closure inside my head. I began to whisper it some time ago, now and again found myself shouting without any sign of power to control the letters, they just flew and fastened near the chair I was, am sitting in; a scarlet letter that marked certain words, thus I was feeble, incapable of erasing them, I was obliged to complete the line as it was: unredeemed. It has been in construction ever since that day, although Iâ€™m beginning to believe that it might be endless after all.
Youâ€™re on the point of receding your voice and the piano, your once confident saviour, is mute. No, those two violins wonâ€™t spare thou! You must remember crashing them with that alluring flower in the hours of dimness! Surely that mellifluous kiss made each perplexed cell in your body tremble in the unreality of all the emotional and heart-breaking dreams you had until then. Enticing, isnâ€™t it? Each combination of letters and sounds of beau ideal just tripping the light fantastic, far-fetched and implausible. Youâ€™ve always transcended casualties to seek a euphonious minor Si that, the instant it gazed into your wither blue eyes, youâ€™d know.
Misleading introverted plot one could mutter without distinguishing an enormous amount of wholeheartedness which elicits questions, my beloved. You are not to feel any shivers when you take in the apprehension, if you have not already, that what I speak is nothing but the eye-catching truth; merely an implausibility you would not yearn to accept, or so it seems.
Prevail shall what must!
Sunday, 27 January 2008
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