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That's hawt cool write me a poem about shoes biggrin

xp

You Have Been Commented! RAWR! mad

I am forever swimming around, amidst this ocean world we call home. My limbs grow weak and weary as my eyes drift skyward in defeat. I remember how warm the earth felt, as I lived and breathed next to her beating heart. I remember enough to keep searching through an ocean of tears, raised to astronomical depths. My dreams offer solace, where I return to distant, faded times. Through trees entwined with cool autumn air, my sorrow is lured by fragerant, bittersweet memories. I am at home as muvh as my world and consciousness allow. I remember falling into the most beutiful lake I've ever experianced. She swallowed me up whole, like a droplet, and I was enraptured and enwombed within her bliss. The lonely windswept desart sky of my soul was filled by her luminous stars and warmed by her sunlit radience. I gazed downwards in awe and saw it all reflected in the shimmering ripples dancing and playing about the surface. It appeared to me as real as the very wonders which it was reflecting.I stepped forward to prove to noone and everyone that they were, by belief. For an aching instant I was betwixed in the two and the summnation. Confusion befell me as I fell through, only to realize that I hadn't entered the lake, I had left it. With all my remaining streangth I howled at the heavens and collapsed. LIke a star on the shores of my youth, as my life's breath wandered away from the home it had harbored. I have been drowning on dry land ever since. I lay there, caital, for heavens knows how long. I felt eons ebb and flow in the spans of seconds. I lived as intently as I could in those endless instants. As the bordom of -after- droned on and on. The fires of my heart grew dim and became only the faintest embers of the roaring blaze they had once been. My limbs, heavy with the weight of the world, protested. I felt the longing of this life which slowly began to ease the agony of my heart. As I was gradually nursed back to health, knowlage of record and history tried desperately to fill the yawning, nausis chasm of my soul. I began to know the deadpan search for freedom and forgetfullness, and I released the hold on my life. Though it still luched, pained, in front of me. I just stared back with the most tired, vacent eyes, as if watching the most interesting of nothing. My mind drifted, only to be slammed back reluctantly, repeatively, and painfully by those I vaugely remember knowing, as if from a different life and age. I try, in vain, to forgive and forget myself as I paste on those plaster smiles and strain to look levely. I remember. I forget. I forget again. I remember less. I am saddened at the thought I have forgetten. I am not the one I used to be. Though it pained me so, I was never as real as those lonely, lost times of my undoing. I am torn asunder at the thought of losing forever that which has changed my life eternally, and that wich I tear in the depths of my soul will never be again. That which has gifted me with more pain than I have ever known in all of my lives or all of the lives I know through my own. Who am I to ask this of you?

Very clever.

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