Something beautiful, more like a pen with dying words. She lived her life in search of answers, alone in the darkness, tears were never the part of her journey, her soul was. Mostly broken and with a dream full of friends, lovers and goodbyes, she sang a song she wrote with whiskey on her breath and a thought in her heart. A thought carrying everything she was made from, a little soft inside and a little dark outside, she was a mirage reflecting what the world wanted to see not what she used to be, in a life which was drowning in a lake full of dreams, a life which she questions in a confusion, weather to fall in love with it or let it just flow like a lonely cloud.
Whistle on her lips
And a song carrying her ships
her childhood, her memories
cold stones and scattered revelries
An innocent love, with a heart for all
she was just a poem,
Not a door but an open wall.
Something more magical, more like a musical. She danced under the tree, tree made of stars, a tree made of raining darkness, changing shades with each and every step of her happy feeling, trying not to hide and be a mystery she danced under the moon and her love of crazy sky holding all her memories.
I am a short diary, do not wait for me
like a flame I appear and disappear
fall for me, dive deep for me
forever is a lie and a moment is true
so if not today then tomorrow
be my love or be my sorrow
~ Blind and Loved, She Smiled