A broken heart knows no peace, belonging becomes a feeling in the distance.
A soul turns grey and looks of ash. So very fragile if disturbed it will crumble.
Once caught by the swirl of the wind its gone forever. And forever it will be searched by its owners hollow body. Looking to be whole again it knows no rest until its found.
Emptiness must become full again, someway, somehow.
Years go by as if never seen or noticed and now the hollow body becomes old, frail and weak.
Ridden by pain and stretched skin hanging from thin bones.
Now comes time to accept what is,  will remain. The fire sizzled out long ago in this withered body. Now awaiting to be laid low in a dark bed that's hears no sound and sees no light. Hope returns as then peace will be found in the heart that now lies to rest.

Living things touch us, embrace us,
Like the warmth of a mothers love.
Holding ever so tightly as to hold you from the wind of a cyclone.
The beauty of her Majesty is known, her voice never heard.
The spirit of her love spreads as wild flowers in an open field
Bright as gods own rays put upon the land.
Our moves are known before our knowledge, and our thoughts before there thought.
The spirit of the unknown guides us through the unknown.

Night is among us, the world becomes still.
               Like a calm before the storm.
The moon shows her beauty, her feminine curves wow us as we admire.
The sky looks of magical colors, some light, some dark, and they are woven together like a Quilt telling a story of generations
                     Passed on.
The air speaks to us, in a voice as soft as silk, and sweet as a rose.
To whom listens, its only for you.
                       Only you.

The morning fog rests upon my face As delicate as a butterfly flutters his wings. Moving ever so lightly,
Seeking an unknown territory.
Everything remains but a mystery, as the dark painted trees tell a tale.
The silence is howling familiar sounds of previous passer by's as they left silent stories untold.
            The air feels like breathe upon my neck, searching my inner most secrets one by one.
Plucking them like feathers from a bird, they are caught in a swelling breeze.
The shadows Protecting them like a lioness protecting her cubs.
They are forever held and forever safe in the army of shadows.

As the witching hour approaches we know nothing of time. We act as robots programmed for daily routine.
Wishing for an existence to feel alive.
The earth spins so very fast as times Marches on.
In the chaos of rush hour upon us we began to speed like race cars on a track. In the far distance our ears detect an echo, that slowly becomes closer.
We haven't much time left to complete incomplete thoughts. We hustle like wolves chasing prey, as darkness rears its head light is no longer. We rest with our mouths full.

At once we meet, as the moonlight meets the shadows
Feeling as naked as our own thoughts.
Bonded by an unknown passion that our breathe speaks.
We are paralyzed like tombstones with writing, having so much to share.
At once we began to utter a single word, a word that shatters into pieces before us like broken glass.
In an instant the pieces fell in perfect rhythms as our song began to play, like morning birds singing.
This was no stranger, for he was my heart, that was lost long ago.
Love awakens, just as bright as the moonlight in the shadows.