 |
 |
 |
| |
Madness
I do not even think I can begin to describe what I’ve felt in the past 12 hours of my life. I feel as if I’ve reached and learned so much, yet it’s ever slipping through my grasp as I forget these tiny little memories… I am left pondering, when my insanity will cease and when my eyes and when my eyes will claim some rest… The morning is on the brinkg of wakening, it is slowly peeking an eye… The restful heads still lie asleep, remembering, dreaming…
Thinking of their days as silly little children playing in the snow, watching the shadows and humming along as Alice falls down the Rabbit Hole…
Want to comment on this Blogs?
Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Blogs and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
|
 |
|
[Back to top]
|
|
|
|
| indeed, i was seeking that. and thanks a bunch :) |
|
|
It's amazing how the last words in any written short piece can take away the wandering mind and set it straight. No matter how off the beginning is, whether it is dry, contemplative, or just throws you into a world you had no accumulation of described design, and then in the subtle common last words it paints the picture for you.
I just wish more information was given, on these past 12 hours. But is mystique is what you saught, then brava. |
| 1 |
|
 |
 |
 |
|
|