Butterfly

I finally caught you today, little butterfly
You reappeared this afternoon
Just as I suspected, you're terribly sly
And only came after the flowers had bloomed

Well, I wore floral perfume today
So will you land on my shoulder?
There's a lot I wanted to say
Before you disappeared earlier

Yes, I wanted to ask how you've been
Where have you journeyed,
what places have you seen?
You left for a long while

Your wings seem to sparkle, as if you wink
Oh, I've seen so much, you reply
But you're completely silent, and I think
You're not leaving; why?

Then you flutter past my face, and in a sudden rush
You're no longer the white butterfly I once knew
Instead, a pretty man smiles at me, and I flush
The answer is clear, but I still want to ask 'who are you?'

You bow, removing your hat, smoothing your red coat
'Shall we?' you hold out your hand and I take it
Colors and pictures surround me, through the air we float
I open my eyes to find that I am lost, but it's with you

It's the Butterfly World, I guess, and it almost glitters
The most beautiful place I've ever seen
As you show me your world; I feel like I'm in a theater
Watching a fantasy film, or living in a dream

Your home is full of magic and mystery
'So this is where you go in winter'
You smile, eyes sparkling, looking at me
And you don't give me any answer

We see the ocean, the forest, the sky
We talk and laugh, you're like a good friend
You're a gentleman, Mr. Butterfly,
You are good to me; you're like a rare gem

I stare into your dark brown eyes; so gentle
You take my hands in yours; so warm
The moonlight kisses your face
And you kiss my lips.

I think to myself; who will believe this?
First person to speak to a butterfly,
Hold hands with a butterfly
Kiss a butterfly.

And now a man has become a butterfly
He's flown away from me again
It was all just a dream, but I won't cry
No; because this isn't the end


Little poem about my butterfly. He's been visiting me lately in our backyard, but I've only managed to get a few pictures of him.

What does he look like when he transforms? This is my best guess.

 Thanks for stopping by!

 Don't forget to say hi to your neighborhood butterfly next time you see him...you never know when he'll decide to transform back into a person. :P

-Argentia

Pensive...

I'm thinking.


 Even if everything is quiet, I still know
 The world is slowly turning
 The candle's wick is slowly burning
 The time is not long till we go

 Lights, action, fire, boldness, spirit
 Last chance to speak, quickly gone
 Without a guide, we won't last long
 For the first time, I stop believing it

 Run and run, keep trying to escape
 The trap's been set, I'm watching
 What do you think, just waiting?
 It won't change that I'm far too late

 What can I do when you don't want any help?


 -Argentia

Still a Writer?

So, I guess it's confession time-

I haven't written any short stories, or done anything in my novels, since November.

A few poems here and there is all.

I'm totally uninspired to write *anything* of length. Poetry, sure, I can cook you up a poem any time of day about just about anything. But lengthy writing with characters, plot, and more than three pages? Not recently.
 I look around me and see all these aspiring authors and authoresses who are always just plowing along through their writing, and they seem to never lose sight of a goal or lose their creativity. They also happen to be really good at it.

Starting at the beginning of this,
I've always been a 'writer'. I was writing stories at age 8, and I haven't stopped since.
 For 3 years, I mulled over some characters and ideas I'd come up with-who knows when; it's been so long, I've forgotten. Eventually, I decided to write a book about all these ideas and characters at age 12. I've had the same book sitting around in my documents for 4 years now. I only stopped writing on that thing 3 times; the first time being after I wrote the first chapter-I didn't write again for nearly a year. The second time being after I lost 20+ pages in a computer crash. The third time is now.
 As to my NaNo novel, I must admit I really, really, really love it. It's something I put a lot of time, effort and brain-power into, but no matter what I do...no inspiration comes. I can't finish it, or wrap up any lose ends. I have no idea where to begin or end the thing.

 I don't think anything is distracting me-I've tried ellimenating multiple things that could be the cause of the blockage on my creativity, but alas...banning myself from YouTube and forum sites does not help me refocus.

 I *can* locate one source of problems.
 Change of career choice.

 So, I never really thought I would be a professional writer anyway, right? But there was part of me that probably hoped I would.
 Now, I've change my focus to become a linguist. I want to learn to speak lots of languages fluently, and I'd love to teach other people to speak different languages, too. Communication is extremely fascinating to me; not to mention I love words, grammar...all of that jazz that also goes into the construction of language. 
 Apparently...I'm really good at it.

 I, honestly, don't think so, but I love it, so isn't that just as important?

 Rethinking stuff, I suppose I'm still a writer. I'll probably always write on the side; especially poetry.
 But I think I've found some things I really like-even more than I like writing. That's...saying a lot. >.<


 Okay, I think I'm done with my rant. All you writer friends that want me to help you edit things-I'm still available. All you writer friends that wanted to collaborate-I'm still horrible at it, but I'm still available.


 Bye!
 Ja-ne!
Anyeong!

 -Argent

Dying Light

 Dying Light

 

This doll came from my great uncle when he was stationed in South Korea. She's really old, but still really beautiful. I know you can't see much of her head...but her pink earring reflecting the light. xD I wanted to get the flowers on her dress, so that's what was focused upon...
The sun was also reflecting off a broken piece of glass that I discovered in a creek at a local park, back a summer or two. The light, the time, the broken glass...all were very beautiful. I couldn't help but race for my camera...please just excuse my horrible photography skills. >.<
It's so awesome that I got to watch the sunset yesterday. Yesterday was special. This whole weekend was special. So capturing the sunset at the closing of this weekend...was really nice.

Slowly smile as the light dies away
Don't ask questions, just stand alone
In the quiet moment at the end of the day
Take a deep breath, no words to condone

Or condemn the fact that the sun has gone
That another day of life is spent
The world is turning, you don't have long
And time is one which will not repent


Think about it for a moment, will you?

-A.K.-

How Far?

Photo sent to me by a friend.

There's a whole world of possibilities.

-Argentia

Sunrise

Flying open, the windows will break
The mountains are black against the rising sun
The room is completely silent and I'm wide awake
As the reflection of my face stares at me

Making a moment in time to remember
The slight creaking of the floor beneath my feet
I'm reminded that it's no longer December
The smell of coffee from downstairs

Early hour, the day is greeting me with light
This likewise untouched moment
As I give thanks for keeping me through the night
To the One who causes the sun to rise

The One who blesses me every time I breathe
I inhale yet again, blowing out slowly
This place is so warm, I strongly believe
I'm not just standing here alone


-Argentia

No Comment.

Wings.


What wings are you speaking of? What wings?

Where are your wings?


"How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God! And the children of men take refuge in the shadow of Your wings."-Psalm 36:7

"For the choir director; set to Al-tashheth. A Mikhtam of David, when he fled from Saul in the cave. Be gracious to me, O God, be gracious to me, For my soul takes refuge in You; And in the shadow of Your wings I will take refuge Until destruction passes by." Psalm 57:1

"When you set your eyes on it, it is gone. For wealth certainly makes itself wings Like an eagle that flies toward the heavens." Proverbs 23:5

"But for you who fear My name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings; and you will go forth and skip about like calves from the stall. You will tread down the wicked, for they will be ashes under the soles of your feet on the day which I am preparing," says the LORD of hosts. Malachi 4:2,3

"Yet those who wait for the LORD Will gain new strength; They will mount up with wings like eagles, They will run and not get tired, They will walk and not become weary." Isaiah 40:31



Wings. Don't speak, I don't want to know.

-Argentia

Here Just Barely

The ideas swirl throughout my mind. One old, one new, all perfect. But all are too much for me in this moment. Ah, the creative bursts of color; the different words that come to me, each tantalizingly beautiful, each just perfect to describe the surroundings.

But time hates me. So I can't write them all out. No matter how much I feel I need them. I can't put them on paper...not quite yet.

 -Argentia

Memory

Whenever I remember the lost time
The sun shined so brightly
Like a stained glass, broken memory
The rays of warmth and light

I stopped writing this forgotten poem
Because I was afraid
But I can't stop, this place I call 'home'
Must be filled with words

Held in the arms of one like a fortress
A familiar face smiles at me
Laughing, crying, but never loving less
I can't forget that day

You whispered a prayer with me
In the moment when my held-back tears fell
Even though you didn't believe
Any good would come from those times

The hours late into the night, spent talking
The things I will never understand
Every time I think of it, I keep walking
Measuring up to standards

People everywhere, crying deep inside
They're calling to me, silently
Gazes that always have something to hide
Nothing new under the sun, vanity


Faces burning in the back of my mind
Hands I've held, voices I've memorized
The colors were so vivid when the sun shined
Those times when I had no fear at all

And then I close my eyes, and I sigh
What will be made of this?
The times I spend alone, staring at the sky
Making faint wishes on the brightest stars

Indeed, the light catches, reflected in the soul
A light I feel I can't see from anywhere
A smile is piercingly clear, but I keep forgetting
The reason that I decided to come here

My memory is of a quiet, rainy day
A book in my hand, music in my ears
As I carefully pondered what I would say
Ah, it's been so many years

 

-Argentia

I'm Dreaming Tonight...

I do begin to wonder quietly to myself right now...
I try not to mention it aloud
But it's bothering me so, without a doubt
I'm left here asking questions in the back of my mind

Nothing can even explain this feeling
Words cannot measure up
I don't even know what it is
I don't quite know what I'm dealing with

I'm seeing those hazy images in my mind
Made alive as soon as I closed my eyes
The words that were said, I hear them
I keep convincing myself otherwise...

The sun rising early, the palest glow
The dreams I was sharing so carelessly
Glorious colors are fading to gray now
Places in the back of my mind, and lastly

Streetlights, softly warm and bright
I've always loved them more than anything
I would go out just to see them tonight
Just to dream about tomorrow


-Argentia

Fix You

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down on your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down on your face
And I...

Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down on your face
And I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you


This song is just beautiful. Beautiful, but sad. Why is it sad? Because though 'I can try to fix you', the 'I' here will never succeed. He will never 'fix' the broken individual he is singing to. Only God can do that. Only He can come and take someone's stone cold heart and make it into a heart of flesh. Only He can turn that person to Him and make them a new man. Only He can 'fix' a broken person.
 I like to take this song and sometimes when I'm feeling down, I change the lyrics to 'And I will fix you'; because that is exactly what He will do. Rather than thinking of it in a sense of relying on another sinful man to guide me out of the dark tunnel, and to make me into a whole person, I rely upon God to do this.

 The first two lines of this song also remind me of people. Not just a particular individual or individuals, but just people. They're all like this-we've all gotten what we wanted but not what we needed at some point or another, and we've all lost something (or someone) that we can't replace.
 

 Just a lot of stuff to think on...

 -Argentia

Christmas Day!

Well, my Christmas Day went much like my Christmas Eve-church in the morning with an excellent sermon, then time spent with friends giving the few gifts that didn't get delivered the day before, then off to my grandparent's house.
 There, we had an absolutely fantastic dinner and a lovely evening spent lazing around after opening gifts.
 I had really...odd dreams that night. >.<
 Then, I spent all of Monday either reading or writing on my computer (no internet access...ugh...)
 I came home to find some not-so-nice stuff had erupted for a friend-without mentioning names, I ask that you keep the whole family in prayer that they would be safe.
 So I talked to her for a long, long time. Before crashing into bed, I wrote in my journal for a long while, but, my writing was not Christmas-related, actually. I have the nasty habit of never writing about what actually has happened, or what is relevant, or what is really something anyone else would probably be mentioning.
 This morning I woke up totally thankful...for a lot of things. xD
 I read my Bible first. Nearly all of the last three chapters of Job. Then I delved into my last entry to see *exactly* what I had written whilst sleep-deprived and somewhat confusilated.
 Sometimes, I wonder if I even have all of my brain cells...or something. >.>

Aaaaat any rate, I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas, and that the festivities will continue till Epiphany. We try to celebrate the 12 days of Christmas, but...I'm not sure if that will happen this year or not. xD

-Argent

Characters Whom I Love...

You're great. When I get lonely, I open up either Lineage, or my NaNo, and there you are. Waiting for me. I can read over you, or write a little more, and then sometimes find some poor, hopeless individual to ramble on and on about you guys to.
 My characters in my NaNo are terribly special to me. They went through November with me- took rants, one night when I practically beat the keyboard to oblivion in frustration, and the awful tendency of mine to make the typo of writing heard as heart.
 They're actually probably not my best. My favorite characters to write are males, but I have the creeping, sneaking, awful feeling that I am terrible at it in the same way that some people think they can sing but are totally tone-deaf. >.<
 Valentijn is just so quiet, and Riagan isn't. I have to switch between the two and wow, is it difficult, but worth it. I'm learning more and more about who Riagan really is, and it's amazing and exciting at the same time!
 I don't know if I'll ever finish writing the novel I've cooked up here, but if I do, it's going to be a lot of fun.

 So, today has been a day for dark poems and writing; in other words, it was sorta rough. I pulled up the NaNo and though still rather typo and error ridden, with many a redundant moment and some things that just don't make sense, I have this appreciation for the writing that went on during that time. It was a great month, great happiness, a few hardships, lack of sleep, mood-swings, and all. I feel so overwhelmed by that November that I can barely describe it all!
 Since it's getting late, I probably need to go. But I had to ramble just a little about November even though December is nearly over. December has been...interesting. Quiet, but interesting. I haven't disliked it, I just can't understand it. :P

 -Argentia Krystofel

Cold

Take a deep breath of the icy cold air, then watch it fog as you exhale. Your confused thoughts begin to settle as you stare up at the night sky; stars dimmed by the bright city lights, yet you know they are there. Peer up at the sky and try hard to see one peeking out from the immense blackness.
 The city has not yet quieted, even at this hour of the night, and you wish your coat were just a little warmer. You shove your gloved hands tighter into your pockets, but it does no good, they're already as warm as they're going to get.
 You're as warm as you're going to get.
 Yet your heart is still so cold.

 You take steps forward, trying to rid the thoughts that come charging into your mind, but it does no good.

 Your heart is cold.
 Cold as the freezing night.
 And you can't decide if you like it that way, or not.


-Argentia

Short Story (Character Study)

Been terribly obsessed with writing these little short stories lately to study different character types. I've already got one half-written about the mysterious character K. He's really not all that mysterious, lol. 

 The male character's hobby is cars. Fast cars. Driving fast cars fast. >.<

 It's so choppy, but he's a choppy sort-of guy, so... :P

 The female character was used as a 'medium' so to speak. She's just there for her opinions on the personality of the driver is the real focus here. 

She grabbed the seat tightly. As expected, he drove fast. She kept glancing quickly at the speedometer and then at the cars around, making sure he wasn't about to hit someone. Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to pay attention to his incessant chatter.

“He's probably at his studio. I'd say he's in the middle of something, though I can't say what that might be, and he probably doesn't want to talk. Also, he might not want me to tell you this, so don't mention it, but he's on a lower than usual dosage of his anxiolytic, so he might be more hyper and a tad irritable, though there's normally no noticeable outward change in him.”

She went through that answer a couple of times, wondering if this fast-paced, intense risk taker even noticed enough of the deep-thinking, reclusive interior designer to know what his mood really was.

They veered to the right suddenly, him biting his lip, yet grinning as he maneuvered traffic.

“As I was saying, stupid drivers, there's probably some reason he's not been answering his phone for the past two days. If he got dumped by his girlfriend I'll be really surprised, though it might be possible...you sure you wanna stop by?”

She took a deep breath, “Well, if I don't die getting there.... How do you feel about it?”

“Me? I don't care what mood he's in. He's himself.” He flashed her a smile, and she returned it weakly, deciding that staring at her hands was the only way to keep from telling him how he was supposed to drive a car, and she knew that wasn't something he would take lightly.

His ringed fingers caught the light, glittering as the gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“You should really try getting to know people here in LA,” he announced, “other than us. We're K's friends, and as you noticed, he's pretty weird. It takes one to know one, sooooo...” He shrugged, “you might be dealing with a few that should be admitted,” He paused, “I can get out of hand sometimes, too, you know.” He winked, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

She shrugged, giving him an incredulous glance.

“I doubt you can be troublesome enough that you'll bother me. Besides, I've only been here for a week and I'm not going to university here, so it's a little hard to make any acquaintances anywhere other than K's studio and my part time job at the restaurant down the street. Since K only has two other employees, that leaves me a little lost there, and at my job, well, there's only a few people who don't act super-snobby with me, so...”

“Have you thought about going to a few parties? Surely you've been invited to some.”

“Not a party person...”

“Blind dates are easy ways to meet people, too...”

She shot him a doubtful look. He grinned, lifting his fingers on the wheel as he shrugged, rings glaring in the sunlight, “I told you I was hard to handle, don't look at me like that.”

At that she couldn't help but let a chuckle escape her lips.

 And that's all! I'm starting to wish my one story character, Riagan, was just a tad more like this guy. He's very easy to write with his impulsive nature, wherein Riagan is not. Riagan's impulsiveness just hasn't worked.

 Oh, well, I guess it's not too late to work with the character and make peace with him. We've been at war since about November 5th, hahahaha.

Fighting with fictional characters,

 -Argentia

Last year today...

Crystal clear skies
And pale, hollow sunlight



It's December 12th...I'm sitting in front of my computer with a cup of chai tea, sipping it lazily, watching a good show that finally has English subtitles.
I'm doing nothing in particular as I dream of the snow that I wish would fall before Christmas. It rarely ever does; I only remember one truly white Christmas in this town.
I'm wasting time by being envious of people elsewhere who have had it snow already. Our seasons are somewhat more unpredictable.
 It was around this time a year ago that some friends came to our house to make truffles; my mom's special Christmas treats that she somehow manages to get talked into doing at least once a year. Normally, it's a result of me, being the chocoholic that I am. But on this particular day, I wasn't looking forward to it at all. I was quite distraught, with all of my shyness, as to what exactly I was going to talk about with these people.
 I guess it's the way the sunlight streams into our kitchen this afternoon that makes me think of it. I remember everything so clearly, even though it was a year ago! It was a really interesting day.
 I can't say the same for today. Though I feel like it's a day where I should be up, going places, doing things, I feel like staying right here and not doing anything. I finished the episode. Now I've gone on to writing a post and editing a novel.
 I haven't touched the novel I wrote last year. I probably need to.
 I was watching D.Gray-man this time last year. I sort-of want to go watch D.Gray-man again, just because I can. XD Right now, I'm watching a lot of K-dramas, though, and hoping to finish Durarara!! at some point.
 I'm surprised that last year I was so oblivious to what was going on around me, and that this year things are so much different. ^.^;
 I'll probably go do laundry later and clean my room...which has returned to it's passtime of looking like a dump. >.>
 
 *sigh* It's an apathetic Monday.

 -Argentia

7 Months Ago

I still watch the same films
And I still read books of the same genres
I still have the same whims
And a strange fascination with commas

But my thoughts are somewhere beyond
It's farther than you would have imagined
But close to me as if joined by a great bond
A world that you would never have fathomed

You're probably thinking all of these things
That don't apply to me right now
But I am thinking about you, though sadness it brings
And I am simply wondering exactly how

You perceive me now; I guess I shouldn't worry
Insignificant, after all, I speak no more
Neither do I hear, see, or care, so you won't feel sorry
But they don't hear me, either, I know for sure

My voice is a quiet whisper among the masses
Do you think we could be friends now?
Now that I don't gaze through tinted glasses
Now that I see the whole picture in front

I've been thinking of you a lot today
And yesterday, and the day before that, it's always here
The thoughts of you and your funny way
Of making me feel frustrated yet happy whenever you were near

For a while there, I wanted you to know
The pain in someone else's eyes
Drove me to changing into this, just to show
Those silent moments I asked "who cries?"

The summer days were warm and humid
It rained nearly all the time, as if the sky knew
The way that we had all been somehow wounded
By the days that had worn us through

But by now, I'm doing okay, actually, better
I might have changed just a little
As I sit here, I compose a short, simple letter
And you can see into my world now.

The time since the last picture of you and I
Has been nearly filled, yet I worry
And I still miss you a little, and I ask why
You came into my life and left just as quickly?

I don't want to be left without words.


-Argentia

Then I thought about it...

"...I’ve been nervous and worried under the pressure that I had to please people.”

 It happens to be the first day in a while that I can connect my thoughts enough to really *understand* what sentences and situations actually mean to me, rather than just sort-of nodding my head and going on, so please expect more writing. >.< I've got about fifteen drafts of blog posts that I haven't published yet haven't deleted, and I'm not sure why, but maybe they will eventually see the light of day. I still feel a bit confused when I try to sit down and write, and focusing is hard, but, I'm doing much better compared to last Wednesday. What's better, I can breathe! XD
 The above sentence in italics inspired the thoughts that follow.

..............................

 Although I am tempted to expect a person who is older than me to immediately be able to take care of themselves and to understand what their intentions, motivations, aspirations and emotions are, I'm slowly starting to realize that sometimes, adults don't always realize what they want, either. It's not just a thing that we 'teenagers' 'young adults' or whatever, who are stuck in between, suffer from. Adults are also sometimes trying to figure out what they want and who they are. I'm not the type for philosophy, so I won't go on and on about searching for self worth or anything like that (I'm a Christian, so my self-worth and the point of my life is found in Christ-therefore, I don't even worry about those things), but there are times when a person is just confused about everything, including themselves.

....................................................



 I am inspired to write thoughts upon sentences deemed insignificant by most.
 To me, that one statement means so much, because for one thing, I relate to it so well.^.^

Something else I care to write, but I'm saving it for a few hours...I have lots to do. T.T


 -Argentia Krystofel

Quiet Stargazing

It's quiet, I feel distant
Deep inside, everything is so loud
But out here, in this instant
It's completely silent, 'cause no ones around

I'm completely alone, watching stars fall
My eyes trace them
Burning in the back of my mind after all
Even after they're gone

I suppose I can't fight it anymore, cause it's here
The site in front of me, the bright lights
The person I was before now is no where near
It's something completely different

Oh, the stars are shining in the dark, deep sky
Lit every night with the sun's last breaths
They shine bravely until morning is nigh
When the sun takes back what it gave

They're beautiful all the same,
God must have known I would like them
Just as when he gave you a name
He knew that I would whisper it in my prayers

So often there is the question of why
Or what exactly I did at what time
I question it all, and then defeated, sigh
It's not my place to do that

It seems somewhat strange, somewhat crazy
Like I'm half of something wonderful
And then half of the reality that is growing hazy
As I blink in the cold, dry, winter air

I wrap my arms tighter about myself
And I look upwards to the heavens
Searching for the silver pieces that show the King's wealth
Cascading thoughts surround me

Little first moment; when was it?
I actually have no idea
You could search forever, yes, never quit
I certainly have done that

And I still can't tell you when
I first saw a star in the sky
And I still can't tell you when
I imagined I'd be where I am

And I still can't tell you when
I first saw the night's darkness
And I still can't tell you when
I'll understand any of this



Writing helps me get stuff off of my mind. I'm amazed if this even makes any sense, considering how I can't really write or make sense of anything concerning letter right now....or words...
 They don't seem to form quite right. And even if they do (like they are right now), I spend a lot of time back-tracking to *just makes sure* I got ever last one in the right place.
 Because it's either really funny or a real pain when you start typing/writing like English is your second language.

 *crazy part of my brain* It is, it is!!! Japanese was your first language! You just don't know it!!!

 -Argent

 (Actually, the chances are higher that *German* would be my first language, since my Dad speaks fluent German, but...I'm pretty darn sure it isn't. It would never explain my grammatical issues, since German has similar grammar to English)

He Dreams Through the Noise...

I see you standing in the terminal
You're holding your arms that certain way
And you're looking about, confused,
And I can't seem to fight the feeling to look away


He's looking at me, head on, eyes so bright
I feel like this moment means absolutely nothing
But somehow, I don't care, because it's all in sight
Crazy with dreams, thoughts truly are something

The lights were bright and beautiful
The voices were something I will never forget
The faces were smiling and youthful
But there was a pair of eyes still filled with regret

Maybe it wasn't regret, more at maturity
So I'm left breathless,
He dreams through the noise, ah, so freely
And leaves me speechless

Who are you, a stranger in the back of my mind?
Dark curtains drawn by the passage of time
The words mean everything and nothing, because you're blind
Why am I still writing this, ponderings of mine?

Because it's just a small amount of time, say a year
That's all that's said to me,
All that I am expected to spend on this, dear
And I can't believe it, see

But then, there's reality, and people, and things
And there's the look on his face that strikes me
So I'm discontent with the evening and the starlight it brings
This strange discussion, this time isn't free.



Inspired by Vienna Teng's song 'Recessional'.

Lyrics-

It's so beautiful here, she says,
This moment now, this moment now.
And I never thought I would find her here,
Flannel and satin, my four walls transformed.

She's looking at me, straight to center,
No room at all for any other thought.
And I know I don't want this,
Oh, I swear I don't want this,
There's a reason I don't want this,
But I forgot.

In the terminal, she sleeps on my shoulder,
Hair falling forward, mouth all askew.
Fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead:
Passengers missing, we're looking for you.

And she dreams through the noise, her weight against me,
Face pressed into the corduroy grooves.
Maybe it means nothing,
Maybe it means nothing,
Maybe it means nothing,
But I'm afraid to move.

And the words, they're everything and nothing.
I want to search for her in the offhand remarks:
Who are you, taking coffee no sugar?
Who are you, echoing street signs?
Who are you, the stranger in the shell of a lover,
Dark curtains drawn by the passage of time?
Oh words, like rain, how sweet the sound.

Well anyway, she says, I'll see you around



There is so much I associate this song with. So much. Somewhat, the song holds a dreamlike state with me; the lyrics almost seem to just bring images floating through my head.
 It's so amazing.

-Argent (Also, YAY for using poetry in my novel. XD)