chance's Page

i being dreamnt meant to meet you. and our hearts throbbing 

were sent to be alive, words like lovers sneaking. greeting to sweet deeply.

in secret movie breathing, ear whispers your lips needing.

"so i was in a cult" he told his friend walking. "in real life or in a dream."

he replied.

there was a ritual to perform. to bring about a being of such unimaginable power to bring about a new world. for the presence of such a power could result in nothing else.

like glaciers met ships plunge into humble screeching metal bend and descend.

bow depths.

"and we had to gather victims and machines with parts. and i stood in front of a ray of energy, as the…

okay, imagine you walk into a room with a stuffed tiger. the walls are childish painted green toy jungle. the stuffed toy is even cute. the deal. alright, got it. i'm in the room and i feel the air conditioning and weird fluorescent institutional lighting. the weird taste of plastic and the feeling of fake. now, imagine- that it's all real. the grass is the sky is the winds blowing the heat into your face. you feel the funk of the swamping and mixing of the essences of creature and nature as…

feeling.

a movement of shadows. like spring in decay, as autumn in rise. as the young chill of doom, leaves paper, away into fade, frailty broken, fragments of the unspoken

the first of signs to come.

across space,

sweet is the cool hanging in the breeze. there stood he and "my dog. dear little one." as death takes her.

the trees sway silent and slow and that is all of the much they have to say.

as passing exhale moves the leaves of grass. as thoughts…