I will remember the words that were never spoken, the touch I never felt. The looks I never seen Or the kisses that never grazed my lips.
I will remember the conversations I never heard, the bonds that weren't made and the feelings that never arrived.
I will remember the unknown like yesterday as the known skips my mind...

Something like a Fairy Tale flying with pixes, dust following behind gallantly sprinkling upon a magical land

Filled with creatures who hold powers to every childs dream, granting great permissions of the imagination of those who believe

Conversations with wise old tree's that have such tales to tell, holding the hand of a grand wizard who casts spells

Traveling on roads made of the purest of gold, passing by beautiful gardens of humming  flowers

Vibrant colors all around, impeccable beauty bestowed with-in this land of great and powerful things

Make a wish and it shall be granted by magic of the highest mountain, accompanied by a wise owl with the most powerful wings

It is he who keeps this magical place alive and vibrant, watching over all that enter, his guidance is in our hearts.

Gordon is his name...
He is hundreds of years old and his feathers are young and bright, he sees all and never forgets

Such a place exsists in a Fairy Tale

When love was once love its blossoms were  vibrant and mild
Ever loving in a rose bath
Its clutches so protective with strong arms
Feelings only eyes can explain as a single tear beautifully roles down her soft cheek
She loves you, you stupid boy!
When love was once love only emotions can explain.

In the wake of night untamed streams flood from black eyes filled with guarded stares.
Where there is a corner, there is no sight...
Where there is a room, there is no light...
Where there is thought, there is no breath...
In the wake of night stillness feels like a final resting place.
Where the heart pounds runs emotions through your veins...
Where the heart lies tears fall at 60 beats per minute...
Where the heart feels its lost...
In the wake of night, sleep runs into the distance wanting to be caught but the task is impossible in slow motion. Everything the day presented surges through your head with no direction and no sympathy until it crashes and you search within the rubble looking for signs of sense only to find confusion.
Morning is upon us and your eyes have yet to close but the days responsibilities must go on.  In a matter of hours you will again be "in the "wake" of night".