Words Can Never Hope

We dance, dance endlessly in a gentle-swaying torrent,
A never-ending fiasco passed down like the flow of a sparkling river.
We search and search, with an unknown passion for an unidentified cause:
How do you search for a form without a shape?
There is a horribly horrid drum sounding off in the distance;
A sweet sleep that wraps you in tight decaying quilts,
Hollow eyes echoing insurmountably spent moments,
Suspended in time with a loud reverence fading over creeping years.
We weep, we shout with cherry red faces,
We smile with smiles that shine like the warm rays of the sun:

We are all one and never the same, we peer with different shapes different heights,
Different dreams we find an untainted delight;
We look to the stars, bright adventures full of gasps, awes and wonderstruck eyes,
But aren't we all burning stars?
Bright points of many, each making a beauty that could never be described in any amount of pretty words.
You will always be especially special, a walking wonder of the world.
And when you find sadness pulling at your heart;
Close your eyes and imagine looking down at the blue-green mass that serves as a well-spring of life,
And imagine you are a fiery beacon of light;
Something that falls silent because words can never hope to touch you.

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