A pair of hands clutching tight,. Trembling, soft and young. Eyes filled with innocent light,. Songs of five summers they sung. While his eyes filled with expression,. Telling tales that made her laugh. Of what he spoke, she got only half. The dagger of time split th.

Join me, bored souls, as we take on the endless years of boring lives. On November 18, 2014. My dirge will echo through the woods. Morning lingers in the trees. Shadows shall consume these notes. Requiems shall stifle my silent screams. My sun is setting into mists of the ocean. The murmur of the trees rings loud and clear. One last day I beg for, one last winter I ask. This tune shall well outlive my bones.

I Think I Thought a Thought. Thoughts from the bus ride back to you. Of someone who cares;. He was a kind soul. Like a beacon that I followed,. Followed to this moment,. These moments right here;. Attached to a stubborn smile;. All from thinking of you.