The day the rope was cut.
                                                      
The cave releases tears at a sleeping heart rate that form a puddle of a vivid memory with each drop echoing to the depth of it's darkness.

The riddles cause flashes of past, present, unwanted, unneeded, pictures.
                                  
Within the cave lies a dweller, who is woken by the silent, slow, sound, of the agony and pain. Jelousy takes cautious sips till all images are a plain reflection of the future with no lane.

One thing or another,
One day or tomorrow.
Those define what is something,
Other than anything that is or should be.

The mind correlates to behaviour and behaviour to the mind.
Stop, stare in great detail everything that is on sight. There is no vision without light, but be wary of the presence without the light to aid sight.

When the hair on your skin stands up, and water kisses it.

You gaze up to see a bird searching for food for it's children.

You realize that the raindrops are tears of hunger, and the cold breeze is the tormenting pain of struggle.

Dear Maestro,

Play a tune of life that I will never forget,
for damp is the soul in the cold bleak weather.
I thought of it many times afore;
peaceful is the peace of the end of greed and war.

My mind consists of thoughts, thoughts that envy time,
for it is clear that heavy clouds cover the future,
but that shall not stop the sweet zesty lime,
leaving the bitter taste in my mind.

I'm walking slowly, through a misty forest.
The trees are dampened by last nights cold breeze.
My breath is creating clouds of rain, that will wet the forest again.

I'm running, through a misty forest.
The trees are distressed.
My panting is causing disruption to the melody of nature.
Prints of my path are left for the next path creator.

I'm standing still, within the misty forest.
I cannot see any longer than the distance of the reflection of my eyes in your eyes.
These are the clouded thoughts, soon to be accompanied by dozens of lights.

Time my friend, you are faul but fair.
You want less of us but more,
You want more of those but less,
You always want but never need yet you transgress.

                                                  
Love, pain and greed. That defines mankind today, time is not on our side but this is life they say, they claim, they do and a game they play.

Disproportionate is time for it gives more to some and less to others.
Disproportionate is life as it carries on with the breeze like a dandelion

Serene, sublime and supreme,
The luxury of life is daunting,
Green is the beam of light,
When your soul comes back in the morning.

Watch the robin tweet this evening,
Observe the time slowly leaving,
Serene, sublime and supreme,
Is tonight's scenery in meaning.
              
Misty is the fog clouding the landscape,                                    
The grass moist, cold and wet,
The grass hopper jumps from leaf to leaf, leaving a trial of life on the last morning.

Flaws is an intrinsic trait coexisting with love and hate.                                
Two worlds are torn beneath the pleasure of flaws underneath the sunset.

One will fall in and out the hole of mystical creatures, the other will observe with a watchfull eye gazing into the distance.

A lifetime is a long time, a vow is made.
I am sorry for my enumerable infinite amount of mistakes.

Serene is the ocean beneath the feet of the lover, pebbles swim yet fishes eat one another.

The lover gazes into the clouds of fur and leather, wondering whether there will be a stormy weather.                                        
                ­    
The busy bee makes it's delicacy with no interruption, gathering with no thought or assumption.
          
The volcano erupted with no precaution. A tornado came to tame what seemed a natural disaster but submerged into chaotic motion.

The lover stays with feet fixed beneath the wet sand to absorb all the climentic weather. Ready to face the commotion.