Tears, tears, tears we all shed them now and then from all sorts of fears my face, just like the amazonian rainforest full of life yet washed down with pouring rain this feeling in my chest is telling me to stay to do as I should to be where I should but my mind is telling me to go away
As the fire burns mercilessly I am saddend that My favorite forest is dying Along with The tarantulas I can hear the screaming for help This reminds me of a day I lost another beloved Forest behind my house.
Inferno we bring into our lifes While we speak the sweetest lullabies We do care about the buildings we made But the biggest rainforest is not interesting as Notre Dame
What is more important , our biggest rainforest or some piece of architecture? So how it is possible I heard about Amazon rainforest fire after 2 weeks and Fire about Notre Dame exactly the same hour it happened..
A story isn’t a story without the beginning. A beginning that told us from the start that there was an end, An end so near that we were not ready. I was afraid of the cliffhanger that approached quicker than a rolling thunderstorm, A storm that looked only of dark skies with hopes of a drizzle, Not a flood. Our passion died like the fire within that storm, The drizzle that turned from a downpour into a flood warning into a whirling tornado of unhappiness. My dear, I wish I could say we were the storm but I was the rain and you were the fire but the thing was, You saw me coming. You saw the storm and the rain yet you lit yourself upon a dry Sahara of promises and the secret I do’s we whispered to each other during the night. That dry, crackled earth turned soft and squishy from the waves of turmoil that rained down onto the surface, The fire doused with remorse over a lost lover. You weren’t dead, You just left without saying goodbye. The ****** was nothing of a ****** but a steady decline of I love you’s to, “Have a good life,” To barely talking, To trailing down a hill to the very end of our story, Regret. I regret everything but you, my darling. The damp earth will grow again and while I may remember the dry Sahara, I will grow a rainforest of color without you in it.
i stopped writing because the well was so full it overflowed and the trees were killed one by one i felt finished and defeated just as the rainforest fell my heart is like the well that is now empty,a hollow shell im now half full instead of half empty i see things without my eyes my heart is dying rind of an orange the mold poison you see my hands are just legs of a spider typing and weaving its words im no longer part of a person im just a part of this world