burn away tears of lifetimes fly away towards the stars

#Burn away tears of lifetimes fly away towards the stars skin#

Story you might wanna go read the other two stories first if you havent already! WARNING: this story may be a bit sad to some of you so viewer discretion is advised! if you beging to feel sad step away for a bit and come back to the story if you can! but if you're up for reading it then. He could see the empty café and their table through the window.This story is the third and final story to my sequel stories the first story is called Ryan's Second Chance and it's in the Ryan section and the second story is in the General CT Stories Section and its called A Celtic Thunder Wedding Story so before you read this He had tried to make someone push him offīut this time silence screamed only what he never wanted It was just another tree in a forest of nights butĪnd instead wound around the wrong end of evening The waiter asked him if he wanted a drink The night he got drunk and wavered the ledgeĪll of time’s arrows fixed upon this instantĮvery time he fixed the ring it broke again The café was crowded when she walked out. To harmonize with the overhead bird’s cry

#Burn away tears of lifetimes fly away towards the stars skin#

The smell of Spring always comes in subtle and soft, sliding along those fast-melting jewels Winter leaves behind in the grass, breezing in across the landscape like an initial whisper which suddenly opens up ears to the whole world the smell of Spring always arrives in a single instant, and the next everything blooms and reveals its most tender flesh to the forgiving gaze of the sun, which is just starting to smile in spreading pink and orange rainbows amidst the green the world is never more briskly alive than in Spring, and even the skin sprouts forth fresh tingles in the diamond air: flowers open themselves in the imagination and the mind becomes an expanding container for the rolling blues of the sky, which continue to grow in potential until a deepening purple gives way to cool space and then stars stretching their veins out in the darkness, a darkness which, unlike all other darknesses of the year, is never fully asleep the smell of Spring is the first line of a sonnet soon to be penned in Summer, the smell of poetry wafting into the prose and becoming a single, indivisible perfume a smell as bright and crisp as the first crack of sunlight in the dew of the first melt of snow amid the crystals, the renewed baptism of water into the earth after a dense, rigid winter, the first opening eye of the year when sunlight and the world are reunited– Splice verdant rainbows into green gradients, Unquenchable fire eye still glistening, even nowĪnd no longer care, even wish for the dirt If possible drag as much of yourself as you canįor the occasional one that won’t, that seldom

With the lowly trunk tree, only lonely friend. Reverberating from some thin-walled apartment room, Listen to acoustic conversations, tin stereos To greet the sun upon its frosty-eyed dawn