Illusions Recreated?

Orphaned souls in a borrowed heaven.

Tangles

Sitting off the ledge,
looking out to the sea,
rise into nothingness,
as the wind tingles my bare feet.

I gaze at the moon,
and drift in the rain,
softly hum that song,
as tears give in to the pain.

Stories left to tell,
paths left to walk,
roses to be sent,
and fights to be fought.

Sometimes, I wish I had the guts to be afraid.

Borrowed Silence

If you look into someone's eyes to see your own, could you tell who's smiling?

Hazy Omens

The way it kisses your lips. The way it caresses your face. The way it takes you into its beautiful embrace. There's something magical about the rain. There always was, and there always will be. The way those silky clouds begin to laugh, fusing the world into their ecstasy. Running across the sky like a small child towards its favourite toy. Dancing in the wind to form delicate swirls of black across a lazy sapphire sky. The trees begin to shiver; the leaves fluttering in anticipation of the touch of that smoldering breeze. A hush falls over the world. And then, quite literally, like a bolt from the sky, the celebration begins.

The first, almost saccharine drop melts onto the orange earth and from that tender embrace rises, quite like a phoenix, that breathtaking fragrance(!) that reminds you of the sweetest of fruits, the freshest of springs and the darkest of nights, all at the same instant. The moment it rises up in you, you fall. Fall into that sweet stupor you can't refuse. That addiction you can't deny. The rain sweeps across the world; those tiny drops writing poetry on the golden sand.
There's something so mellow about the first drop that nuzzles your forehead. The way it trembles across you skin, by the edge of your eyes and slowly trickles into the corner of your lips. Something so beautiful about the first drop that you drink from the pitcher in the sky. It hops on your tongue, diffusing little droplets into the corners of your mouth and rolls down into the cavern of your throat and fills you with nothing else but pure life. It's a dream where you live eternity in a moment.

Sometimes, I feel like standing in the middle of that field, trembling, shivering, drowning in the rain. Stand there, arms outstretched, begging the sky for redemption, waiting to be assaulted by those pin pricks. Wishing that the whip of rain lashes across my body, peeling off the skin of regret. Wishing that talons from heaven rip me apart and wash away everything. Wilt into the ground like every fallen leaf. Sometimes I wish I would dissolve into nothingness, evanesce into the earth, to be moulded into a new statue of mud.

Sometimes, I wish I would melt away into the earth just to nourish a new flower to life.

Sometimes, I just wish...

Because the rain gives you something that God himself can't take away.




Hope.