Imagine.Thoughts.

The little things,
like a smile, or a wave of a hand,
sweet thoughts,
its ecstasy that runs in my brain,
like the wind from the ceiling fan.

I could deal with a little silliness,
I could sit down and whine,
drink some sweet honey,
and munch on nectarines,
yes nectarines are fine.

If the night permits,
i'll rip out a little star,
and if it be bright enough,
if it be kind,
you can use your camera,
and compare it with your smile that shines.

You can play the piano,
and i'll strum my guitar,
we'll compose our thoughts together,
maybe pen a word or two,
maybe it'll last forever,
just me and you.

So let it all go now,
the worries and the frown,
close your eyes for this one moment,
but don't look down.

Just smile.

n-joi

FullStop.

A levels are a bitch.

TheySaidIt.

If breathing is the obstacle,
then life is but death.
If nothing is but a term,
then something is but imprisonment.
If being is choosing to achieve,
then seeing is choosing to go on.
But when living is the only choice,
then we fall to forever.

KillingThem.

Selling my soul and my belief,
to kiss the one's devil by its feet.
And bow down to humiliation and shame,
for manipulated gratification,
for incarnate gains.

The will speaks to the heat,
of the reasons that decide deceit.
Now the noises seem to end,
into a rousing chorus that is harder to fend,
it breaks, it aches, it breaks.

Simultaneous solidification of the meaning the words,
tearing beyond logic,
finite finished verse.
The tale of one soul condemned to eternity,
one of happiness to do what the devil bids him.
Life farewell, formulas of hell.

A. A. A. A. A.