Over 16,529,119 people are on fubar.
What are you waiting for?
Is the wish for the touch of sweet fingertips the nature of the lyre?
A delicate instrument who dreams of a sire to strum her tender chords across an empire.
Does the muse search for the poet, like the poet searches for a reason to be inspired?
A longing for completeness in all things comes hard-wired - yang to yin, masculine to feminine, even the Truth needs the Liar.
Love is a fickle creature, and when strangled it's easily tired; denied the bellows, the inferno’s destiny is dire.
Struggles for radiance lead to desperate attempts at breaths; the immolation of the conflagration becomes a funeral pyre.
Whether positive or negative, understanding of vision is subjective. With this being said, could love be a phoenix - once exhausted could the bonfire be resurrected?
New wings, alight with flame, to burn away the dark of pain - soaring away to heights unexpected.
This is the game we play; the way we danced away the day - perfect partners divinely selected. Flying in unison, equal parts became a perfect perspective.
When did our passion become misdirected - was any of it ever elected?
Something so precious should have been guarded, protected. We never lost heart, but we wrecked it.
Let’s make a pact, and make it collective - to rekindle our love and let it rage unchecked. Let’s glide to new sights and find new lights like Aurora Borealis, riding currents, convective.
