Forecast

The tea is cold . . .
. . . almost like the wind blowing out a perfect candle flame
. . . like a distant cloud blurring the wondrous view

Cold tea . . . . .
Icy roads, I feel as though I am collapsing and have nothing to hold on to . . .

Foggy windows . . . . the magical condensation of the rain . . . like droplets falling from my eyes

The wind howls . . . it moans
I look up at the sky . . . . admiring the strength and nobility of the moon and fret at the sight of his jealous companions

The crispness of the night air gives me chills . . .
. . . . yet it soothes me

. . . . it bites me . . . and surrounds me . . .

. . . . it tears me down
. . . . yet it somehow lifts me

up up and away!

. . . . into an unknown expanse of nonsensical thoughts
. . . . I tuck into these sentiments and imagine the years to come
. . . my innermost fears meander through an unknown valley
. . . . a stream of remembrance . . . . a flock of observations . . .
. . . . an effusion of feelings . . . into a cascade of new and unfulfilled desires.

Forecast

Farwah

Joined November 2007

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