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BLAIRE Jul 2018
I could've sworn. I've seen them before.
Those eyes. Those undying eyes of yours.

Somewhere in the depths of darkness I might have had a glance at them.

It was no illusion. I saw them.

They were timeless.
They were beautiful.
Too beautiful.
Demonically beautiful.

They were the most vibrant during rainy days when everything else seemed pale.

And every time I catch one of your breathless stares shamelessly thrown at me an explosion of these different emotions in every direction occur.

They were always changing
They were never consistent
They were strangely composed
and unusually fashioned.
That it reminded me how:
The harmonious and the chaotic.
The clear and the obscure.
The sacred and the profane.
Perfectly orchestrated with each other

They were the most gleaming during long nights.

Like watching countless comets gracefully illuminating their trails as they slowly vanishes in the horizon in a cold atmosphere.

Like watching a thousand unconquerable oceans with the winds, the tides and the stars
held captive.

Like watching the victorious moon slowly ascends reaching for the clouds after waging
war with the fallen sun
They never bore me
They never did
and I'm actually convinced
That they never will

For whatever genuine treasures that might still lie in its depths that I could not measure
or mysteries that might still be hiding in its vastness that I could not completely wander.
Ceaselessly, I'd still be willing to unravel.
BLAIRE Jul 2018
All the brilliant lights hanging from the void sang as they slowly reach for the sea, and all the winds and the clouds gave way as they descended.
The sight was tremendously breathtaking, Everything moved so slow that you'd be able to witness how graceful they extended their arms to illuminate everything below.
The coldness of the air and the softness of the breeze that passed through my face felt like it was fashioned by an invisible hand to keep things consistent.
everything that night orchestrated perfectly.
From the calmness of the tides to the clearness of the sky.
Everything was set up to be observed not merely by the eyes but be observed wholly by the heart.
It was to be felt not be seen. It was not to be liked or be hated but to be considered.

— The End —