He’s facing a reality he never thought he would have to face.
He loves her with all heart,
But her ignorance will not break.
He just wants her to know he will never leave her side.
He can’t figure out how to tell her,
But he’s determined to find a way.
He has to pick the silent approach.
He sticks with her regardless of what others say,
And spends his days waiting for her.
He knows she may find another man.
He does not weary;
He will never look to another woman.
He will be alone forever before he is ever with another.
He is the threshold of hope and hopelessness.
He is the epiphany of loyalty.
She is no longer a romantic interest.
She is his best friend.
A certain beauty presents itself whilst believing a something exists which cannot be attacked
Infallible attack will present, of course – though unsuccessfully
The nothing taking not the reality of
Holding out until the very last moment, then keeping the hold even longer –
Striving off hope and lost hope; where hope is lost –
Using hope to restore faith in itself all over again –
It’s kind of weird how it works, really – the notion of believing a something –
Every day going by makes more easy the belief in something different.
I guess one could say
Changing belief, going against the whole idea of believing anything in the first place.
Having not all not changed something believed in
major things – at least
once in occasion
Was the belief, the notion of absolute trust
stronger before or
And where we have added onto our truths
where were we not at least changing something
What is believing
What of believing
in things that can change – in things that can be molded, modified – and maybe even, slip away.
We’ve found an
never the same.
represented only by an entirety of a color wheel
a gene in every organism of nature.
What a discombobulated MESS
Um, or is it?
Hahaha… So that’s the beauty of believing…
Use as little or as many colors as
for all I care.
Believe in all you want.
Use whatever colors you may please.
Let us see
who can be more
His breath occupies the vacancy.
His mouth lets his energy seep through.
I have no control over his doings.
I have all control.
A timeline – the specificity implied,
So raw, so real – so pointless.
I can just light another one.
Where do the rouges seek?
The edge of the planet grasps to their boundaries,
For they know none.
And the reigns of the heavens align to their commands.
Lo the skies fall unevenly upon thy wicked,
The half and half.
Some are they –
A whole are they as one.
And the lines which spread out evenly amongst them, well
They come on long strings.
But there are none upon thy wicked
They’re coming is a circumstantial plummet.
They go well with abrasions
And even better with cash.
He pounds the ground with softness and intent,
He is light as he goes,
He makes no noise,
And holds no boundary.
For as he goes hunting,
He hunts with cunningness
His balance –
A pupil of the universe.
His theology is a fruit of nature.