Cell Phone: Ulitmate Truths

The world problems, although are not hers, are her concern when they affect those close to her. In this world, her problems and trials come last, she is to listen and aid others, that is her vocaion, in turn she is to love as she shall never be loved. In this world, that statement is an ultimate truth, although there are those who believe otherwise to this truth. There are those who proclaim love for her, but whare are they to do when her flaws burn like fire in the night, and her accomplishments die out like weak flames upon seige of heavy winds and water?

Sins

Deceit, a game played by all who claim to love you when the end is near. They strike out at our kindness and play with all of our affections to the point where all that we thought we knew is burned and fruitless in our lives. Destruction, the bounty of deceit itself, overwhelms the soul as one struggles to find purpose and meaning. The whispers of lies and torturing truths, driving one to insanity, making one loathe themself and all that which has to do with them. Screams of anguish pierce the air as one falls to their knees. A single sound begging for all of the hellish terror to stop, to be released of the world and die without these torments binding them with their soft unbreakable chains. But the cries are useless, as one collapses onto the ground, sobbing and begging for the end to come, for their sins to be washed away.

Journies

Affections and promises are short-lived lives amongst eternity. The road along eternity itself is long and at times tedious, but nevertheless worth all the time that is spent upon it. Betrayals and losses may seem never ending and unforgetable, but in time, the water wears away the stone encasing, leaving all that remains vulnerable and washed away. The intimacy of friends are never forgotten, no matter how much the pain and deceit build upon the record. Yet as time passes maturity is seen as a common factor, and perception all that matters in the time of which one dwells. The petty matters and drama of life is forgotten as the path's length is no longer relevant to the path itself. A journey is something to be savored, learned from, and respected. Only time can lead one to respect all that is.

Souls Upon Candlelight

Soft light encompassing the darkness of the room. Whispering winds begging for a ear to enlighten. The night's song slowly engulfing all that is, lulling those on the brink of consciousness to sleep. The lulling of souls and their soft cries mumbled by the sweet taste of content as night comes into full. Fragrent roses, teasing the senses of all that surrounds them, paying tribute to the luna that gives the strength. The scribbling pen of a furious writer, echoing off the cobblestones and drifting to the streets as the last of the carriages run through to their homes. The nervours calls of horses upon the stables as the sounds of night engulf them echo unto the windows. The fog engulfing all that is until only the light og the candles remain, only the light of the drifting souls.

Drifting

Her steps quiet and lost, the purpose missing in all that is spoken. Words irrelevant to that which encompasses her as time drags upon the world of men. Deceit and betrayal known only to her mind, as love is erased by the cold forboding that engulfs her. The sunlight that seemed so welcoming at first sight as child, has turned harsh and cruel against the eyes and mind. Love, eradicated by the cold and frigid winter that consumes the world. Trees hovering above her in all their glory, speaking of that which only age could tell. Soft snow drifting along the wind, clinging to her hair as she feels her last warm breath leaver her, drifting off into the world where she is forgotten.

Sea of Night

Power beyond the comprehension of a mortal mind, dwelling amongst the depths of the mortal world. Sweet, powerful, alluring songs against the rocks drifting to the ears of the innocent as all else fades away into the night. The strong wind making a tempest of that which is decievingly calm to the mortal eye. Beings of the depths quietly dwelling, ever watchful of the world of men who know not what it is they do. Cliffs overlooking all that lies before them, yet as she stands upon them, her night gown wipping in the wind, molding against her shape, wonder is not known to her mind and heart, but sorrow. For in this beauty and greatness, is the deception that the world whispers aong her skin, twisting all that she knows, yet here, lies the truth, the sea of night, ever changing and never ending in all that it is.

Moonlight

The sense of growing tension spreading throughout one's body. Scents of the forest and that which dwells upon it flooding the senses with a vividity that is unnatural. The need to feel the earth's scent surrounding one as if a blanket overwhelming. A thirst and hunger insatiable, but nevertheless irrelevant as the building pressure rises in one's chest. The desire to feel one's hair in the whispering wind, overpowering and relentless as the night drapes itself through the forest. The rising moon inhancing the eerie atmosphere of which one's breath pierces. Yet as the moon comes to it's fullest, one's control is lost, leaving one only with one's primal instinct, and the uncertainty of what is to come.