Parallel lines never reach The same point but falsely Appear to kiss on the horizon. The permanent illusions that Lead to conclusions which fixate And
Seeing this together Ignites the fuel within to Cause need to burn hot. counterpoint to Whitewashed Morning
A lonely sunrise In a single set of eyes Paints the world in grays.
Reaching ever outward. Never in. Seeking to find, To touch. To grasp and Hold within a guarding grip. They look to find, to land Like
Filled with breaths of love, I let it seek a loving Hand to hold it tight.
It started with an amazing post by she who is made of light. Brooke Breazeale in this challenge she made. Her challenge was to Tom