A train can only go forward or back, to destiny or the past.
I sit in the train and watch the raindrops on the window thinking that one day the rain might fall as fire; the droplets will glow and burn, the air will become steam.
The train just goes forward, following the tracks in the rain, all the way home with a rackety rack clack clack.
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Write by day, write by night, even writing by candlelight.
A path, long and winding, So long since trod upon, green shoots have sprouted Across its direction And now sway softly, Interrupted only by weeds and thistles Accidentals in the melody The embowered...
Wanderer alone,. The unknown is home,. With a whole. world to roam,. The streets wept,. While the sun slept,. Lost in a masked ball,. Dancing through. faces & phases,. Masquerade of lights,.
Velvety earth underneath my flaming soles, Sprinkled wet with raindrops full of sorrows; Amidst unripe carpets of hissing bluegrass, Shivery air; brackish sudor turned crystals.
I'm on a road That goes on for miles and miles Will it take me To a place of happiness and smiles.
Let your heart go where the wind takes it Pure like the raindrops of time Follow the path where it takes you Straight down the line How can one sit back and dream it I'd have no peace in my...
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