Is is the will which separates us. A will, for you, which moves as long grass in the wind, as the flame by a slamming door.
Tag: poetic
The face of truth.
When the walls come down and worlds collide, those who remember peace lose the most.
In time for supper.
When the sky comes falling down, and fire falls from the heavens, when the waves come to flood the land and death surrounds the world, none can convince the certain that the nightmare has never been so.
In retrospect.
The world has turned to a sad state of affairs.
Perversions are the order of the day,
Lives filtered through the lens of a lens with opinion and undue certainty mixed in.
Hardly a scrap of truth is recognized the world over anymore,
For truth has become objective views of certainty.
Stories.
The world tells its stories in ways unheard.
Drowned out by words of others, what is declared as inspirational or that which is to be upheld. Smothered by nonsense by those who would seek to undermine the ages, tradition and the silent stories told by the elements.
The Ederren 