it does not have to be,
it does not want to.
For if it was written,
one dirge comes first before the thirst: then it follows.
another deluge cometh; yet rainbows of promises are on the way.
So please don’t wallow, subscribe to your soul and follow
where its asking you to slowly smile,
look up then after you’d know there is no place you would rather be.
Then it was written at the part of my history,
Now thus the life I have to taste,
Of this abysmal ryhming of monotoned glory.
Ther3 is a cloud
among clear skies,
It is barking up
Why of all things
does it cry?
Becaus3 in my eye,
a pressure so severe
it does do nothing but form.
Pen and paper
May 2017 @rtsydhude
So to know you can be
what it you ought to see
The life of my own plea,
I will not start this with you,
However plain simple and cruel;
Dont ever dare go there.
In spite of my own influence,
upon these grass of ruin.
In spite of the inspirations
thus it leaves death comes after the grass.
the rock turned to the moss,
gave it a name,
coz it wanted to gain momentum,
It called it,
While the water was flowing.
I know you can,
i see you can,
thing is Why of all things
That the line has to drawn,
That a line have to be torn down,
that this time a line had a limitation.
Once upon a birth,
when the twine is thick now it runs
with fumes upon years
of frown and frustration.
Dream a thick nor thin,
the line as the same since
until it was then but not now.
My dear cute and sweet Lachesis,
please tow the line
before mine own is never the same
and keep my line intact
for i know not of the fate you can deal,
only the last sister decides not you, not you.