Some thoughts flow melodically
like one eloquently orchestrated masterpiece
Or a well-woven tapestry.
Other thoughts erratic and staccato.
Pauses.
Discordant.
Confusing.
A cacaphony of noises.

Some thoughts are soft and comforting
Like floating clouds of pink, golden sunsets
Over calm, and glistening waters.
Other thoughts are as sharp as pointed ice.
Cutting.
Jarring.
Deceptive.
Malice spoken from evil tongues.

Streams of thoughts can be elusive.
They run
They jump
They swirl in a whirlpool
Unable to steady.
They ​branch
From one thought to another
Shifting like quicksand
Melting into nothing
Forgotten.

Other thoughts can seem iridescent
Changing hue by the light's movement.
Some sparkle, some are bright,
others a dull, faded colour
Turning blank as the light morphs into darkness.
A train of thought now stopped to a halt.
With its own mind
With its own heartbeat.