InkTouching my soul, fragments of my imagination pull free. Scattering, overlapping, and blinding. In A Rush....Striking the canvas of my inner subconscious, my dreams flood out, unstoppable.They bleed and mark, leaving traces pitch black night. Winding, weaving, crossing are the lines of judgement, Of all the things I could of done, of all the things I hold back, somehow stretching out forever. Random, yet precise, lost, but free. The wash of inspiration to flood out the hard edges, to soften the haze. tracing over, and setting me free
BreatheThe echoes call my name. over, and over, again. The past showers me with wishes, regrets, hopes, fears, and dreams. The rain of the past, present, and future, pound endlessly. Who, when, and where will my cross roads lie? Who is calling my name?When will my moment to shine come? Where will life lead me? The wind whispers to me, a story, breathing into me...... There is hope, for this journey all must take. Live life with a passion, and take risks. Sing your swan song with pride, and let yourself be heard.The wind departs, and thoughts overwhelm me. Climbing over the hills and valleys of my destiny....Take my hand, and never let go. Let our hearts beat in unison, keeping us steady, even if the world drops around us. Togeth
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