Nothing appears settled in the moment of decision-making
As if we were the ones to choose
Fools to think we’ve got power to move freely on the string of occurrences
Time lapses
Between the past and the present
What will follow?
A fallen part of a porcelain vase appearing at the bottom of our tea cup.
Picture on the walls that used to make sense
I had a habit of staring at grandmothers collection of crystals she had displayed in her Victorian styled parlour
They were like minature animals in a zoo of
Glass
She must have hoped deep down inside that they were to remain
Despite of her departure
Devotion to the belief of destiny
Is a tough call
For the impatient mind
That remembers dreams
Swept away by a cleaner randomly doing his job
Did he have a choice?
Voices become single stringed violin players were the tones last forever
There is an end
A pinked coloured dotted line hanging on the corner of every room
We’ve touched it
Arrived at it
Again
And fell
Again
A beautifully delivered performance
Life
An orchestra
Of sound
Tremendous
An orchestra
Of sound
Tremendous
Give time to what you belive in
