Under the Mad Sky
Sat by the street, under a mad sky mixed with grey and blue, where a faint sun tried to break through. There, too close to my Full Metal Jacket, its weight like a silent scream, a shield against the abyss, caught in the half-light. I waited, death a silent shadow, unseen…
Play a simple tune, each note, raw and true, matches the rhythm of heartbeats, quick and sweet, love always breaks through. The journey isn’t on a chart, but in the space between each heart. Love’s song plays on, even when we fall apart. Drop the guards, and all hesitations and doubts. Dance bare in soul and skin, under the full moon, as one in the dark. In the radiant glow of passion, do not try, immerse. Become the movement, this moment, leave worries at the door, like worn shoes.
The Silent Path
Depression is more than a shadow, it’s a place to stop, to take it slow. Life’s rush pauses in this quiet space, where we find calm in a slower pace. Sadness isn’t just a feeling that hurts, it’s a road to healing, as time asserts. Grief unfolds quietly, giving way to peace, a soft whisper in chaos, a gentle release. This journey has no map, it winds and turns, through dark nights, where hope slowly returns. It’s a tough climb, with hidden gifts, rising slowly, as the heavy fog lifts.
Hammock of Time
Basking in the light of old days, in a hammock of healed memories, each swing a story of love, loss, and starting again. Here, briefly in tune with life’s music, the birds singing, the wise oaks, sharing secrets of resilient, taking in all that nature offers. Above, the sky opens…
She was not the one, she was zero, a blackhole eclipsing light, a null that devoured all in sight, leaving coldness behind. I took my love, a fragile flame, and quietly walked away. In the silent after I left, I began to hear from a self, long ignored, now loud and clear…
What happens to the heart when the mind takes over, how terrible it is, it just doesn’t get the soul. In its rooms, echoes linger, once full of dreams and desire. Now, the stark, cold reason reigns, a place where passions can’t burn. But even in this place of logic, a whisper persists, faint yet unyielding a memory of warmth, a spark of color, fighting against the monochrome of reason. It speaks of a time when feelings mattered, of laughter and tears, not just equations; a reminder that in our lives, the heart makes patterns too tricky for the brain.
Seeker in the Night
Here comes the moon child, floating in cosmic dreams, falling in love again with fiery, bold Mars, leaving behind Venus’s soft light. She is ready to let her heart’s river flow, saying goodbye to the mindful shore, getting closer to the divine’s mysterious echo. Beneath the starlit sky, she lies sleepless, awake with a sweet promise written in the stars. In the quiet of the night, salvation whispers through rustling leaves, each step a dance with the earth’s ancient rhythm.
Moments in Time
Within and around, it is all right here - all my memories in boxes, each one holding pieces of the past. Some hold happy times, wrapped in ribbons of joy, others carry sad regrets, tied up with rusty chains, whispering forgotten stories. Good or bad, together they show my life, some cracked…