All the writing fades away,
as if it never were.
Their over-ordered minds become
no more than just a blur.
A moment of extraordinary
and peace descends upon humanity,
as history suspends itself. And we are
given yet another chance to dream.
Pen and ink and paper shrink
into a nebulae.
We look upon this world with a brand new set of eyes.
And realize that no one can be blamed;
that each of us must share
a portion of the heated shame.
It all begins to come so
We are, and we have always been together,
no matter any measurement of mind.
And here, behind the walls, we see
how bright our spirits shine in unity.
It never was a matter of
Experience endures beyond industrious disease.
Unfocused, we become much more of all
that we were always meant to be. We feel,
and thus the meaning travels on. Stealing
all the glamour from those moods of compromise.
Expression can't be saved
for just the weary and the wise.
Rising on the tides of life,
emotion peaks in moments of pure love.
Love never was a matter of belief
or reputation. It singles out each one
to be the best.
Even when the writing fades
While through the all and everything,
the rest just drifts away.
But love, oh love, is always
here to stay...
? Michaelette ?