She stands and stares at the endless sea of stars and pulls herself back down to the Earth once she needs to breath and inhale in the endless sight of a million stars.
As she gazed dazed at the mindless infinity of ceaseless star light she turned and realized she wasn't alone.
The silent man who stared up at the awe inspiring sky held something in his hand- a single blossoming rose. He extended his hand with the rose gently as if worrying that seeming unkind would scare her.
She extended her hand and he gave her the rose. In the single flash their skin made contact as she was handed the rose she wondered how lucky she to have found someones soul as romantic as hers and wondered if life was ever this in love as she was in this moment.
All the man thought was how perfecrt her soul must seem to see glory in how beautiful life itself was.
As they both looked up at the stars again they both wondered which was brighter:
Their infinite souls or the infinite stars

The night is not beautiful because you are waiting for the sunlight
The night is beautiful because it's darkness has its own beauty

I hide in a wall of silence hushed by crowded over zealous voices which towers over and obscures the quiet plain thought of simplicity that follows in my train of thoughts.
I feel the quietness of how loud all the voices call as they seem so blind to a single desolation if they are not a part of the lonliness.
The silence snuffs the sound of nothing and expands beyond the shallow gravity of mundanity as the mind creates torrents of an endless curiosity which only silence can create.
I lean back and see the colorful world that just expanded from my lonliness and all I see is a gorgeous painting of vibrant life and wonder how lonely individulism can create the beauty of seeing everything together.

Strangers parade all around in their undying masks of hidden souls carrying on with their secret souls, not seeing who any one can really be.
They move so shadowed their figures distort in bluring mimic of blind movements, so cloaked and over bearing the shadows presense, they blend to be one emassive culmenation of hidden secrets the world hides them before they themselves can.
The distortions, so blindly obscure by their unrational wits, writh as their unbearablely clandestine futures draw closer to an edged madness as their undying silence takes over.
Their black fates are met with a silent nothing which destroys all fact, all fiction, and all reality.

The two most romantic words in the entire world:
"Hello I'm"
Because they have the courage to come up say I might want the rest of my life to be with you
Because they have the will to believe that a future will be right now
Because they want the hope of an eternal forever wrapped in instant greeting that seems so trival it's an infinite moment
Because they want to remember that first step of falling love was simply coming up to the person they are later meant to love and saying "Hello I'm"

I don't know who I am.
And that's okay.

Oh if only life was like a school literature textbook.
Every country of every writers ethnicity at peace with each others words
No fights
No battles
No wars
If only the world saw each other the same way I see them in the book: fitting perfectly together but still being their own person with their own beliefs
No fighting
No battling
No waring
Maybe the world should believe that they can all be equal to one another and not thrive on spilt blood and bomb explosions. Maybe if they believed that the world could exist without
Fights
Battles
And war
then the world would have a chance to exist ...in peace