SognoPortal

"Six feet deep, in a bed where the bones sleep, the rain seeps through the rocks and sediment, like a million little teeth. The remains arranged by nature, in a pleasing manner that no one sees. Niether seen is the non-physical essence that came to be, manifesting from the beginning of the stream--to the destination at the bottom of the sea. The spirit is no longer present, or so it seems; a breeze sends an avian to rest, atop the deceased. Pearched on a pillar, a marker in the earth, does the crow know of the story that concluded below? Stone's throw from the lost gold that was the person's saga, forgotten by all those, except the ones who t

It seems love and apathy dance in an eternal circle, like wind gracing a mountain with that sweet breeze, that greatest joy of life. The mountain standing forever, never remembers another's presence. Life thrives on the mountainside; the river cries as she divides true love, like neighboring lands for miles. Jump into the river, and let it carry you on, like a stoner poet lost in thought while writing a song. Rythmn reminicent of the roaring waters, suddenly dropping over the falls. Remember you can stop your progression toward the endless horizon, if you would like; Enjoy the beauty and serenity of life before it passes you by.

Loneliness is the book that waits to be filled, the clay that waits to be shaped, the stream of consciousness that has yet to flow from the mouth. A Soliloquist may say such things to themself, but without sharing their ideas with others, their ideas may never take form in the material world.          By bringing that hidden potential out from within, one can Educe their Notions. With art, one can communicate their expression, through a medium that can be experienced by others. One can Objectify their abstract thoughts and ideas, sharing them with the external world. Without Zeal however, the book remains blank, and the clay remains unmolde