Time is cut short from it's un-controlled life span. The day grew roots at minor degree, it didn't come to me that it was day until about 3 hours ago. A whine, a plead. Implode, implode, implode; goes the vexatious kin. Confucius, in my terms, a master. Treat others the way you want to be treated. Did he structure that? Does that kin underestamate it, or does the kin carelessly scrape away at it's very meaning. Implode, implode, scream, implode. Then, a beg for mercy and forgiveness. Confucius young one, Confucius.
Then, the battle comes to a still halt, as remnants groan and slowly fade away with their life and will. Down comes the guardian from troposphere storms, and calls a retreat call with her bone carved horn. The guardian burrows in a small hole she calls her own. But comes a heavy dose of aftermath. Yet again, the guardian slowly re-furnishes herself and fights another battle.
Mothers Day, has not arrived. But an interval, interval, INTERVAL.
I love you mom! :)
Then, the battle comes to a still halt, as remnants groan and slowly fade away with their life and will. Down comes the guardian from troposphere storms, and calls a retreat call with her bone carved horn. The guardian burrows in a small hole she calls her own. But comes a heavy dose of aftermath. Yet again, the guardian slowly re-furnishes herself and fights another battle.
Mothers Day, has not arrived. But an interval, interval, INTERVAL.
I love you mom! :)
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