The candles burnt out
One by one
And I was thrown into the dark
And it was then that I felt the weight of the cold

In the darkness of day
And the light of night
I'll talk to the stars
And listen to the whispers of the wind

As my vision blurs
And time becomes distorted
I'll dance under the eyes of the moon
And sing to the clouds
I'll chase the sun as it sets on the horizon
And as I run I'll get lost in the rush of colors all around

In the depths of white
And the shallows of black
Where the asphalt meets the sidewalk
meets the grass
I'll lay
And stare up at the trees
who'll stare back down at me
We'll have a staring contest
Untill finally I fall asleep

By Arcassin B & wolf spirit

WS: little eyes, what do you see
reflections of what we're meant to be
i'm looking at you, you're looking at me
but do you really, truly see?
what lives within the heart of me?
AB: little eyes, tell me is it me,
Directions in what you choose will be
The vision is clear, glancing at my face,
Do you invest all your time in empathy?
should I give you a chance to be free?
WS: little eyes..how large is your world
do you look to me to see your dreams unfurled?
i look at you with tired eyes
open to prospect and sweet surprise
looking into your little eyes
AB: little eyes, wont you tell me your name,
Receptive to your realities of this place
Staring at a bunch of leaves,
What in the can you retrieve and believe,
Watching as the world dies
WS: little eyes, how much do you see?
do you reach within to the soul of me?
can we make bygones into goodbyes
languid, restful in these little eyes?

Can't stand to think
So take a seat
Hanging on to...I don't know

Losing the battle, between okay and not
Mourning the loss of clarity
Memories are fading... or are they
disintegrating

Screaming for help even though
you don't want to be saved
at least not by someone else


*give it time and youll be fine they said

I don't want to write something sad
I don't want to write something while on the brink of tears
I don't want to write something filled with fears

I want to write something beautiful
I want to write something equivalent to a summer morning
One where the trees look black against the dim sunrise and the birds sing and the wind blows gently as if to rejoice in the new days light once again

I want to write something worth remembering
Like the first time one sees the northern lights in the dark winter sky
Like the red, green and blue dancing across the stars

I want to write something that makes someone smile
I want to write something that makes someone stop and think for a moment
I want to write something that someone somewhere finds something in
I want to write something that hasn't been written before in other words

But alas, when I write I get lost in the dark
In the cold
In the fact that the stars are so far away and aurora borealis isnt something magical but is caused by solar flares
In the fact that with anything good something bad almost always follows

I wanted to write something beautiful
I wanted to make someone somewhere smile

I can see the colors and hear the birds
I can feel the breeze and smell the sweet smell given off of bluming trees
But to everything beautiful there is something ugly

Why do I always find myself writting about the ugly?

If I am kindling,
you must be the spark...
Much alive in the darkest dark,
lifting all shadows with
finesse and flair.

     If I am flame,
     you must be the air and wind...
     Unfettered and free...
     Cradling my infancy.
     Only to nurture and inspire,
     to groom flame to fire.

If I am faltering...
And almost extinguished,
you must be the hand...
Bearing the confidence and belief...
Awaiting the moment most opportune,
to align yourself in rhythm and tune.
So we could...
Continue to
burst forth into light.
So we could...
Resume our journey forth with might.

     Let us be our own deterrent
     from the darkness
     that comes with morrow's set.
     Hand in hand, we must...
     Because together...
          And only together,

   we're...

                        incandescent.