Bre'ion

Passion is so familiar I breathe it. It underlines every aspect of my expression now suddenly, I find it pushed off I suppose it was lost among shadows cast by my strained thoughts I was scrutinized. So I kissed away the desperation The perseverance. the effort. I remain calm amongst the shelter but not serene the effort is gone It was buried. Sometime between war and interrogation It's the hostility that kills me In fact... it made me weak, but I was murdered by the wrongful, spiteful words of a bitter being It is believed that harsh storms bring forth meek skies and kindhearted spring breezes... only, naturally, there's nothing but a dull grey ceiling and sullen, drown grass. The air still whirls around... a faint scent of catastrophe, of chaos. the atmosphere was once bleeding and the streets were once flooded then, you're left standing within tragedy. Where do you step? Where do you look or put your words? The air doesn't hug you like it used to you're not caressed by the warm hearth of the sun ... you don't know where to go. so you're lost, still unsure of where you're going as if you ever knew. only, now, you're burdened by the fragile eyes of your witnesses.