Still has a feeling everything can be understood and justified by the statement: “I am a dreamer. And if you’re in the clouds you can’t really be affected by all the chaos below. Crap doesn’t fly upwards. Not yet.”
Lover and occasional writer of faulty – that is, unique – poetry.
Creation’s Ode (My Eyes in Yours Lie)
My eyes from yours have been made,
Although my form is by your hand
Wrought into being, on paper laid,
Your sea’s waters to my shore’s sand.
From your essence I outwards flow,
Into the wider world from that of your own.
I am your messenger, and I can grow
Into a value, a meaning, a symbol you’ve sown.
I sprout from within, a depth known or not,
Expressing your being, an art, piece by piece.
Crafted by you, as you dreamt and thought,
I come from your passion, and I go with peace.
(With you I was born, but with you I won’t cease.)
In my entirety, I stem from a spark,
Caught in your mind, seen in your eyes,
And being created, I leave a lasting mark,
Upon your great heart, where all your art lies.