Words

I can’t just make up words. I need to write, be free, and be one with the universe. Create while being created. Sing while being sung to, Cry while being wept upon. And love, like none has ever loved before. So passionately, so gloriously, so greatly, that all the angels and all the stars envy me with the deepest passion of a beggar in the street wanting one last meal before he dies a gruesome death. Being so hungry, he cries to himself, he slumps against the wall, weeping. A hand from an angel above reaches down and wipes away the tears. So gentle, so calming so beautiful, like a dancer, dancing to the rhythm of the Gods. Slowly moving with the beat. Feeling her soul being carried away to an unknown, far away place, where the animals are free to run wild and rampant. Chasing the breeze that carries her soul higher and higher against the warmth of the air, and the heat of the blazing sun. Heating, burning bright against the blackness of the universe that’s growing darker and darker and she is going deeper and deeper into the sky. Her soul is free. Free to be who ever it wishes to be…. Like I said, I can’t just make up words. I need to write, be free, and be one with the universe.