Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

Weathered Threads Unravel

The ache within the hands is a painful reminder of what I endured to walk in his shadow, each day of silence reveals more then words ever could. I cry only for my own inexperience to interpret events.No hello nor goodbye only places life on the strings of the puppeteer. Now! laugh, smile, cry and dance has fallen way to the depths of the sea, the heart now sings to the music of time and though the moment softens it never leaves my mind.

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