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Henerala

Beneath the Ice
the ICE is floating with the freezing breeze
beneath it
...the chilling stops
...the heat goes up
...the water starts to boil
for there dwells her heart.
There, the ice melt into tears...



I hate materialistic people...
I am materialistic...
...I hate myself

I don't believe in second chances

Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Three years have past since my last entry. Though it's hard to believe, I cannot remember the person that wrote the poems and stories here. Even writing already felt like a strange skill. All forgotten after a choice to take another road. A road that is very far from writing. Now, I don't have the time to leisurely read any book I want or focus on a thought that I would like to paint with words. A book, that in the past I might have finished in one sitting, is beside my bed unopened for three months.

Floating with the freezing breeze, where the chilling stops, where the heat goes up, and where water starts to boil, her heart melted the ice into tears...


Tuesday, November 23, 2010

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