A bead of sweat rolls down my face and splashes softly on the ground below me. My chest rises and falls softly. I breath in and ex hail. The grey sky above me mimics my mood. Thunder booms and lightning bolts threw the air. I пересекать, крест my legs, put my hands on my knees and begin to meditate. Цвета flash threw my brain, visions fill my mind. My eyes snap open and I see a ghostly figure hovering in front of me.
It's a child. A young girl, 8 years of age at the most. She draws me towards her with a tiny pointer finger. My soul escapes my body and flies threw the night... the little girl holding my hand, guiding me slowly.
The cold air is crisp, it bits my flesh like a lover's teeth. My hair waves about, the wind giving it a natures comb.
"Why am I flying?" I ask her.
"Because Ты are free..." She smiles.
"What is your name?" I ask.
"My name is Jen, Jennifer Danyeils" She grins, turning sharply to the right.
"Why am I free?" I scream as my hand loses grip of hers.
I begin to plum-it thousands of feet. Arms flailing about, reaching for the spirit. Suddenly, I feel relief. She has my hand again. I`m safe.
"Your're free because Ты wish it." She replies.
I ponder. "But I don't wish it..."
"You are just telling yourself that" she laughs.
"Live your childhood..." She said, suddenly getting serious.
"I can't..." I whisper.
"Live yours like I would have lived mine." She whispered back.
Then I realized, she was dead. I look disgruntled.
"Yes, I am dead. I was murdered. Live your life." She snapped, suddenly dropping me.
Again bolting towards the ground, I was hollering for my life, hands if front of my face. And as I was about to impact with трава plain. My eyes snap open. Slowly I cock my head to the right and look at my hand.
Upon my flesh, where the girl had touched, my skin was wrinkled... As if I was in a pool of water for a very long time.
Then a man walks up behind me and taps my shoulder. "Young man, I think your little friend dropped this. Make sure Ты give it to her." The man smiled, handing me a piece of paper.
At the time I was thinking "What the fuck!!!!" And as I opened up the scroll, the words " Living old and dying young isn't that much fun. But living young and dying old, makes life just as bold."
I closed my eyes and smiled. "I will."
It's a child. A young girl, 8 years of age at the most. She draws me towards her with a tiny pointer finger. My soul escapes my body and flies threw the night... the little girl holding my hand, guiding me slowly.
The cold air is crisp, it bits my flesh like a lover's teeth. My hair waves about, the wind giving it a natures comb.
"Why am I flying?" I ask her.
"Because Ты are free..." She smiles.
"What is your name?" I ask.
"My name is Jen, Jennifer Danyeils" She grins, turning sharply to the right.
"Why am I free?" I scream as my hand loses grip of hers.
I begin to plum-it thousands of feet. Arms flailing about, reaching for the spirit. Suddenly, I feel relief. She has my hand again. I`m safe.
"Your're free because Ты wish it." She replies.
I ponder. "But I don't wish it..."
"You are just telling yourself that" she laughs.
"Live your childhood..." She said, suddenly getting serious.
"I can't..." I whisper.
"Live yours like I would have lived mine." She whispered back.
Then I realized, she was dead. I look disgruntled.
"Yes, I am dead. I was murdered. Live your life." She snapped, suddenly dropping me.
Again bolting towards the ground, I was hollering for my life, hands if front of my face. And as I was about to impact with трава plain. My eyes snap open. Slowly I cock my head to the right and look at my hand.
Upon my flesh, where the girl had touched, my skin was wrinkled... As if I was in a pool of water for a very long time.
Then a man walks up behind me and taps my shoulder. "Young man, I think your little friend dropped this. Make sure Ты give it to her." The man smiled, handing me a piece of paper.
At the time I was thinking "What the fuck!!!!" And as I opened up the scroll, the words " Living old and dying young isn't that much fun. But living young and dying old, makes life just as bold."
I closed my eyes and smiled. "I will."
He leads me
in the paths that are right
Ты are my friend
I have courage,
for your help is there
Ты are close beside me with comfort,
Ты are guiding my way
Ты make me welcome,
Pouring down honor
This joy fills me with gladness
Your goodness always is with me
Your loving kindness strengthens me always
as I go through life.
They are pouring down honor
For your achievements
It fills me with pride
At your success
Ты are еще than deserving
Of such attention
I am so happy for Ты
And am proud to know Ты and call Ты friend.
in the paths that are right
Ты are my friend
I have courage,
for your help is there
Ты are close beside me with comfort,
Ты are guiding my way
Ты make me welcome,
Pouring down honor
This joy fills me with gladness
Your goodness always is with me
Your loving kindness strengthens me always
as I go through life.
They are pouring down honor
For your achievements
It fills me with pride
At your success
Ты are еще than deserving
Of such attention
I am so happy for Ты
And am proud to know Ты and call Ты friend.
How men first learnt to invent words is unknown;in other words,the origin of language is a mystery.All we really know is that men,unlike animals,somehow invented certain sounds to express thoughts and feelings,actions and things so that they could communicate with each other;and that later they agreed to certain signs,called letters,which could be combined to represent those sounds,and which could be written down.These sounds,if spoken или written in letters,are called words.
Great writers are those who not only have great thoughts but also express these thoughts in words that appeal powerfully to our minds and emotions.This charming and telling use of words is what we call literary prose.Above all,the real poet is a master of words.He can convey his meaning in words which sing like music,and which by their position and association can break men to tears.We should,therefore,learn to choose our words carefully,or they will make our speech silly and vulgar.
Great writers are those who not only have great thoughts but also express these thoughts in words that appeal powerfully to our minds and emotions.This charming and telling use of words is what we call literary prose.Above all,the real poet is a master of words.He can convey his meaning in words which sing like music,and which by their position and association can break men to tears.We should,therefore,learn to choose our words carefully,or they will make our speech silly and vulgar.
See its crying so bitterly
Its raining here today
Cuz its valentine day
Everyone has a smile on their faces
Either true или fake
Some have their heart's aces
Others hated even to wake
Now that you're gone
I'm staring at my phone
Hoping Ты to make a small call
That Ты wanna meet in the mall
There's an empty place in my heart
I'm in agony due to the pain
The день Ты left it broke apart
I cry as much as the rain
Pls come back to me
Pls say Ты Любовь me
And that I'll never again have to stay
Alone on a valentine's day