Rome was not destroyed in a day
New worlds seep out of broken things
And When they are thrown away we cling to them.
One day with all honesty. And fearlessness, we’ll come clean with who we are.
Birds with metallic songs in our throats
Maybe there’s no meaning, but life is only deemed worthwhile if we see one
The many books that profess this
Our Eyes are needles that sew narratives in random events
It is all an exercise in contradiction
For Every moment we must cherish the existence of those whom we love
Feel them in the goosebumps on our skins
Yet we must always be ready to trod on without them
As light as birds
Fly with a barren like heart over things that would weigh us down.
Especially when they are broken
For what grounds a ship more than love
And broken dreams
The weight of memories
Stuck in the past.
In the afterglow of some forgotten summer day.
Yet We do not go to graveyards to count the dead; we count the living by the sparks in their eyes
Lit by hope
We must embrace and hold tight our dreams in life’s raging storms.
As gently as white doves ready to be released to the heavens if the universe so demands it