here

Waking among the ferns that are dripping with dew.
Among your thoughts are those of where is this, they are not few.
You let out a sigh and look about, it is so silent you feel as if to shout.
The air is crisp, though it is not cold. There is water abundance, though it is not humid.
Instead of looking for a way you feel like taking a little stay.
Among the green, the brown, the grey.
There is much to see, and even more to be. What will life be, a dream?
The tree's foliage paint the ground with shadows but with this you will not be without because it feels as if a painting is about.
It is there to savor, and it produces many other things, even flavors.
Do not underestimate nature, before it takes you away.

These are different ones.

I looked down into the abyss.
There was nothing that I saw as amiss.
A scream, a shout, all of it was drowned in the dark.
Even a song sang by a lark.
All of your dreams, your moments, your sanity.
Even the times you spent in vanity.
All of that is nothing to the abyss.
But what of it?
Take back what is yours, don't point it towards the shadow, the black.
Expose it in the open, there is no need to take it back.
Because if it is shoved into the abyss nobody will know what is amiss.
With this there will always and never be a moment spent in bliss.


this is another one.

What is time to you when you are tired.
When you are weak, when you are strong.
There are times when you move along
and those when you want to sing a song.
What respect do we have for time?
Nothing short of everything.
The strong use it to abuse because they are able to defuse the system.
The week use it to rot because they come up with excuses.
Time is there to share, for everyone to have their faire.

This post was edited by ChrisKz on Jul 28 2014 09:59pm