Oh the Nights

Seeming like pain, some ghosts, horrible ideas about the pasts. The over-under of my mind is grave shifts of the weird. These are dramatic phases of regretting the door swing to my death.

I must search for the golden hue. From within the clue is lightening. The tragedy is half the beaten. Why clasp my medal in my heart for being the broken one.

So the moon and wind and spaces in time, where sitting, sleeping, the whites roll. Goal or no goal at least no jails. Free like mist that travels around in circles. I wish you were with me in this rememberence of reasons.


Author: leeethomas

Visual Artist, musician and writer from Australia. Interested in Love and the Mind.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s